


Phoenix Tears

by enigmaticblue



Series: Phoenix Duology [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of Phoenix Dreams. Less experimental in nature, and involving a prophecy, as per usual. Another one of my very early fics, and not updated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Defining a Life

Spike resolutely kept his eyes on the paperwork in front of him, refusing to look up. “Please, Will.”

           

“Emmie—” he warned. ‘Don’t look up,’ he told himself silently. ‘Beware the eyes.’ He was a tough guy, and he still retained most of the characteristics of the Big Bad. There wasn’t much on the planet that fazed him; he’d already died after all. But as Dawn had often accused him, he was a softie when it came to certain people, and he would do anything for any one of “his” girls.

           

“Please.” The naked pain in her tone had him looking up to meet her big brown eyes, and he was lost. Spike sighed. The puppy-dog eyes had won again.

           

“Look, pet,” he said patiently. “I can’t always step in when you and Angel have a disagreement. It’s not healthy.”

           

Emmie knew she’d won. He was definitely caving. “It’s not so much a disagreement as much as it is that he just won’t talk to me. Angel’s been brooding non-stop for the last two weeks, and he’s driving everyone, including me, crazy.” She plopped down in the chair across from him. “I just don’t know what to do,” she confessed. “I could threaten to leave, but…”

           

“But you don’t want to have to carry out the threat,” Spike finished for her. He had definitely been there. And Emmie was right, Angel had been brooding for the last two weeks, which meant he was functional, but not much fun to be around. To be fair, she wasn’t the first person who had asked him to have a word with the boss. Gunn had been in earlier that morning, and he was fully expecting Wesley to come by later in the afternoon. Even Ty had said yesterday that someone needed to pull his uncle’s head out of his arse. Spike had disciplined him for his language, but had to agree with his son. He just didn’t see why he had to be the one to do it.

           

As though she’d read his mind, Emmie continued. “It’s just that you and Angel are close, Will. Maybe not like best friends or anything, but you understand him better than the rest of us can. And you’re the only one with a prayer of beating some sense into that thick head of his.”

           

“I think Buffy would argue with that,” Spike disagreed mildly. “I’ll talk to him, Emmie. But I’m serious. I can’t step in every time you two have a hard time communicating. You’re going to have to learn how to talk to each other.”

           

“We do talk,” she protested. “But we’re coming up on our two year anniversary, and I’m just worried—”

           

“He’s not thinking of leaving you, luv,” Spike said instantly. “Peaches is still head over heels, trust me. I’ll figure it out, or at least get him to talk to you.”

           

“Thanks,” the young Slayer said gratefully. “I’ll owe you one.”

           

“You’ll owe me several,” he called after her as she dashed out of the room. He sighed again. He’d never liked confronting the great poof when he was being especially poofish. Getting Angel out of a bad mood typically involved pain on someone’s part, but he hated to see Emmie miserable. And much like his own Slayer, she was particularly vulnerable when it came to relationships, having had so few good ones in the past.

           

“Hey.” Spike looked up to see Buffy standing in the doorway, smiling at him.

           

“Hey, yourself,” he said, coming from around his desk to greet her with a thorough kiss.

           

When she finally pulled back from him, there was a slightly glazed look to her eyes. “Mmm. I should leave more often.”

           

“Absolutely not,” he said, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. “Miss you too much.”

           

“Well, that goes for me too,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. “Unfortunately, duty sometimes calls me away. I think you should come with me next time, though. Think about how much fun we could have in Europe.”

           

“And all the things I could teach the Council,” he teased.

           

Buffy smirked. “I’d love to see the looks on their faces. Some of them would flip to meet the former William the Bloody.”

           

“What do you mean, ‘former?’” he said in mock protest. “I’m still the scourge of L.A., you know.”

           

“That’s right. You’re so scary you couldn’t tell Emmie that you weren’t going to get involved,” Buffy replied in amusement.

           

Spike sighed. “You heard that, did you?”

           

“Ran into her in the hall,” the Slayer admitted. “Spike, I thought we talked about the whole non-involvement thing. Healthy relationships, etc.”

           

He shook his head. “Emmie wasn’t the only one up here today, pet,” he stated. “Gunn’s been after me to talk to him too, and even Ty’s noticed his mood. To be honest, I’m about that close to banging his head into the wall till he gets some sense knocked into him.”

           

Buffy frowned. “He hasn’t gotten any better in the last week?”

           

Spike rolled his eyes. “Worse, actually.”

           

She paused for a minute and then conceded. “You’d probably better talk to him then,” she admitted. “It’s not just a lover’s quarrel at this point.”

           

“Why me?” he demanded.

           

“Because it’s your duty as his second-in-command. And he’s family.”

           

It was logical. Spike hated logical. “Bugger family,” he muttered.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Wesley stuck his head inside Spike’s door. “Do you have a minute, William?”

           

“Sure, come on in,” Spike said, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to have any peace at all until he talked with their boss.

           

“I’ve been wanting to ask if you would talk to Angel,” Wes said without preamble, sitting down across from him. “I tried talking to him myself the other day and got nowhere.”

           

Spike grimaced. “Was planning on talking to him tonight, maybe asking him to go out hunting or something.” He glared at his friend. “You do understand the sacrifice this is, don’t you? Buffy just got back today.”

           

Wesley winced. “Quite. It’s just that—”

           

“Say no more,” Spike said. “You’re the third person who’s asked me to say something to him today.”

           

“Do you think it’s something I’ve done?” Wesley asked quietly.

           

Spike looked surprised. Wesley was almost always the most self-assured one of the bunch anymore, though he’d heard stories of a time when he was a bit more insecure. “What on earth would that have been?”

           

“It’s just that the beginnings of his depression coincide with our—mine and Fred’s—announcement. It seems a little too much of a coincidence.” Wesley looked worried, and Spike sat back in his chair thoughtfully. The other man was right, now that he thought about it, and it was a better explanation than the others he’d considered.

           

“Angel’s happy for the both of you,” Spike assured him. “And the rest of us are all looking forward to having another little one running around the place. But—”

           

“But it may have reminded Angel of what he can’t have,” Wes said heavily, pulling off his glasses and running a hand over his face. “Lord knows I never thought to be a father, and this was a surprise to both of us, but I never wanted to hurt him.”

           

“Wesley,” Spike said firmly. “This isn’t about Angel. This is about you and Fred being happy and having a baby. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll talk to him. If that’s what’s bothering him, he’ll just have to get over it.”

 

~~~~~ 

 

They perched on the rooftop, looking down into the alley, a well-known haunt of the worst kind of bloodsuckers. “Quiet tonight,” Spike commented.

           

Angel grunted a reply.

           

“Not much going on.”

           

“Why are we here, Spike? And don’t tell me Ty had a vision.” Angel didn’t even bother looking over at him, and Spike grimaced. It was going to be one of _those_ nights.

           

“He didn’t.” He looked over at Angel and wished once again that he could have shoved this duty off on someone else. Angel was the only one of the old crowd who called him Spike. Things had gotten pretty strained between the two of them after he’d gotten his memories back and Angel had anchored his soul. It didn’t make much sense, really. There should have been enough happiness to go around. But Spike had never completely worked through his resentment of Angelus, and Angel had never quite gotten over his hatred of the young vampire who had made his unlife as miserable as possible.

           

Really, there had been harm on both sides, but Angel hadn’t had to deal with the old Spike, and Spike had been William for eight years— _sans_ all real memory of Angelus. The tension had built up over a period of weeks until they’d had a truly glorious screaming match, followed by a spectacular fist-fight, and then a bottle of scotch spent in mutual reminiscing. When they had gotten home, it had been nearly dawn, and both Emmie and Buffy were completely disgusted. On the other hand, after they’d gotten over their hangovers, things had been much better between the two of them. Buffy had been right about one thing: they were more like brothers than they ever had been in the past at this point.

           

“Emmie’s upset,” Spike finally said. “She wanted me to talk to you. And Wes and Gunn both were asking me to figure out what’s wrong. Even Ty’s noticed your bad mood. So you want to talk about it?”

           

“No.” Angel straightened and stalked away from the edge of the roof. Spike was never one to give up easily once he’d started something.

           

He grabbed Angel’s arm and forced him to turn around. “Is this about Wes and Fred’s little announcement?” he demanded, going straight for the throat.

           

Angel pulled away impatiently. “Of course not.” There was a long pause. “I’m happy for them.”

           

“Good,” Spike said, anger touching his tone. “Because you’re making our lives miserable. You got something to find fault with, then come out with it. Otherwise, get over it, Angel.”

           

Angel shook his head. “Emmie’s so good with kids. You’ve seen her with Ty. You know. How can I ask her to give that up?”

           

The younger man’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t even tell me that you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking. Angel, Emmie knew what she was getting herself into. Bloody hell, man, she loves you!”

           

Angel sat down, leaning his back against the ledge. “I can’t give her what she needs.”

           

“Who are you to decide what she needs?” Spike demanded. He sat down next to Angel. “Look, Emmie’s young yet. She might not even be thinking about that right now. Besides, there’s other ways of getting kiddies, Peaches. Plenty of people out there who can’t have their own. It’s not like you don’t have options.”

           

“What?” Angel snorted. “Like adoption?”

           

“Worked for me, didn’t it?” Spike asked quietly.

           

Angel looked over at him in surprise. “Ty’s yours, Spike.”

           

“Yeah, because I said so. But it’s the same thing as adoption.”

           

“No,” Angel shook his head. “I had a paternity test done a few months ago. I wanted to be sure there wouldn’t be any problems in the future, just in case somebody tried to claim him. I had the test done three times, and it came out the same every time. He’s yours by blood.”

           

Spike stared at him, half in anger, half in disbelief. Angel had said nothing to him about the tests. But it wasn’t possible—“I was dead, or dying, when Erin conceived,” he protested. “You know that.”

           

Angel shrugged. “I know, but it doesn’t seem to have mattered in this case. He’s yours, Spike. You said that Erin didn’t remember much about it. Maybe the Powers had something they needed Ty for. It’s not much stranger than you being brought back from the dead, or even two vampires having a son.”

           

‘Ah,’ Spike thought. ‘So that’s what this is about.’

           

“Never mind Ty,” Spike said aloud. “Though we will have words later about not telling me about that blood test. This is about Connor, isn’t it?”

           

“Forget it,” Angel said, rising to leave.

           

Spike shook his head. “Not so fast, Angel. You can’t blame Wes for what happened. He doesn’t even remember it.”

           

“I know that,” Angel hissed. “Spike, he was my son. Mine. I want—”

           

Spike looked at his sire with a great deal of compassion. “You want what you can’t have,” he said softly. “Angel, Emmie loves you. Your soul’s anchored. You’ve got friends and family that love you. You keep this up, you could lose all that, and then where will you be?” Angel buried his face in his hands. “Look, talk to Emmie ‘bout this. Take my advice, and tell her about Connor. Figure out what she wants. Maybe she doesn’t want kids of her own, and maybe the two of you could adopt.”

           

“I’m a vampire, Spike,” Angel said. “Vampires don’t adopt.”

           

Spike rolled his eyes. “Git. You’re the head of a multi-million dollar corporation. You can do whatever you damn well please. Talk to Emmie, Angel. She’s thinking you might not love her anymore.”

           

“But, I—”

           

“Don’t tell me, Peaches. Tell Mary Elizabeth,” Spike instructed gently. “And do me a favor. Don’t make me have to have a heart to heart with you again.”

 

~~~~~ 

 

“And he was sure?” Buffy asked quietly.

           

They had just spent the last few hours making up for being away from each other for the last few days, and Spike was filling her in on what Angel had told him. “He said he’d had the test done three times, luv. But it’s impossible.” He paused. “And I’m still mad at him for doing it without telling me.”

           

Buffy stroked his chest with a soothing hand. “I get why though, Spike. Ty’s really special, and if someone ever challenged your right to have him—it could get ugly. I’m sure Angel just wanted to be prepared to tamper with the evidence or something.”

           

“Yeah, but what does this mean?” he asked her, a plaintive note in his voice. “I mean, we knew I got brought back for him, but this is—”

           

“Scary,” she finished for him. “It means there’s even more to this than we thought. And Wesley hasn’t been able to find anything?”

           

Spike rolled over on his side so he could see her better. “No, but prophecies are notoriously unreliable. And—” he broke off.

           

“What?” When he remained silent, Buffy sat up to face him. “Spike, you have something face. You’re not hiding something from me, are you?”

           

He was torn. “Not exactly. ‘s not my secret to tell, pet,” he said slowly. “Let’s just say, there’s a particular prophecy that seemed to involve Angel, and it didn’t really get fulfilled in the way anyone might have expected.”

           

“Prophecies never get fulfilled in the way anybody expects,” Buffy said. “There’s a little more to it than that, isn’t there?”

           

Spike hesitated, and then nodded slowly. “Angel’s regrettin’ not bein’ able to give Emmie kids.”

           

Buffy’s eyebrows went up. “But Emmie knew that when she decided to be with him. He’s not actually thinking about leaving her, is he?”

           

“I don’t think so,” he said. “But he wants kids of his own, luv, and I can’t blame him. Fred bein’ pregnant just makes it that much more obvious what he can’t do.”

           

Buffy sighed and didn’t reply. She remembered very well why Angel had left all those years ago. It was long past now, and she didn’t regret it for a second while lying next to Spike, but she was afraid for Emmie, that Angel would decide to be all heroic again.

           

“What about you, Buffy?” Spike asked suddenly, a wistful note in his tone.

           

“What about me?” she asked in surprise.

           

He hesitated, and then took one of her hands in his. “Look, luv, ‘m not saying that I’m not happy, but have you ever thought about having, you know—”

           

“Kids of our own?” She looked at him tenderly. “We have Ty.”

           

He looked abashed, but pressed on. “I know, but I wouldn’t mind havin’ another one or two, you know. I wouldn’t even mind getting married.” This last was said quietly, and Buffy was silent for a long time, not knowing exactly what to say. Spike was the first guy to seriously bring up marriage or kids, as in wanting both with her, and a part of her wanted it. The other part was scared stiff.

           

“Spike—”

           

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he said quietly. “Like I said, ‘m happy right now.”

           

“It isn’t that I don’t want to,” Buffy assured him. “Are you serious? I mean, really serious about this whole thing?”

           

“’Course,” he replied. “I love you. I don’t want to be with anybody else, ever. We’re both human, you love Ty, he loves you. There’s nothing standing in our way, Buffy.” Spike wasn’t trying to push her, but in his heart of hearts, there still lived the Victorian gentleman he had been. And that gentleman had been brought up to believe that marriage was the end goal.

           

Buffy looked into his eyes and suddenly wondered why she was having such a hard time deciding. He was right. There really wasn’t anything standing in their way. Maybe they hadn’t talked about it before, but it was more because they’d been content with what they’d had, not because she hadn’t wanted more someday. “I never thought I’d live long enough to make it worthwhile,” she confessed. “I don’t know, Spike. I haven’t really thought about it, but, yes. I would marry you. And I wouldn’t mind having a child, but I think I’d like to wait for a little while on that one.”

           

A smile grew on his face, dazzling in its brilliance. He gave her a hard kiss on the mouth and buried his face in her hair. “I love you.”

           

The Slayer held him close and wondered what she’d ever done to deserve him. “I love you, too, William.”

 

~~~~~ 

 

“Angel, talk to me,” Emmie pleaded. He’d come home from his meeting with Spike quiet and thoughtful, but she’d let him make love to her, even though she really would have rather talked first. She was so afraid that she was losing him. Angel had been distant the last two weeks, and had avoided her every attempt to draw him out. That had been the only reason she’d gone to William about it. Normally, she would have wanted to handle him herself, but that just wasn’t an option this time.

           

Angel rolled over to look at her, and he could see the fear Spike had told him about. Suddenly he felt bad for not coming to her sooner; he knew she was still insecure when it came to relationships. “I’m sorry, Emmie.”

           

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, suddenly angry. “Just tell me what’s going on.” She would have gotten up from the bed, but he tugged her back into his arms, needing to hold her, to feel her next to him.

           

“I can’t give you kids, sweetheart,” he said softly, knowing she would understand.

           

Emmie blinked, realizing immediately what this had all been about. “I knew that when I fell in love with you, Angel. I didn’t have to choose to be with you, you know. I could have left.”

           

“I know, but now that Fred is pregnant, it’s just—”

           

“It’s okay,” Emmie said softly. She twisted so that she could look him in the eye. “I’m only twenty-four, Angel. Barely. I have some time to make that decision, and there are options.”

           

“That’s what Spike said,” he muttered, somewhat sourly.

           

She chuckled. “Well, he was right.” Emmie reached up to caress his face. “There are other things to loving a vampire that I have to deal with, you know. You’ll stay young, even though I’ll grow old. I could get sick, and you won’t. I know all that, and I’m okay with it. But you can’t shut me out like that, Angel.”

           

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and stroked her hair tenderly. And then he showed her again just how much he loved her.


	2. The Powers That Be

Ty’s voice progressed through the text slowly, but steadily, his young tongue tripping lightly over the Latin phrases. When he finished the paragraph, Wesley nodded encouragingly. “Excellent, Titus. And in English?”

           

“The Kraigorn beast makes its home in the deep places of the earth, making war at night—” he paused slightly. “Coming from the deep and dank.” Wesley waited a beat to see if he would catch his own mistake, and was not disappointed. “Not dank. Dry. Deep and dry.” Ty looked up to beam at his tutor.

           

“Very good, Ty. Very good indeed. I think that’s it for today.” Wesley watched the boy fondly as he stood to put the book away. The decision two years ago to take the boy out of public schools had turned out to be a good one. While he did most of his classes by satellite at this point, Wesley was still in charge of languages and magic, while everyone else took their turns teaching weapons and hand-to-hand. The nearly idle comment he’d made, almost five years ago now, about the asset he would be to the forces of good, was certainly proving to be more prophetic than he had meant. By the time he reached adulthood, Ty would have had more training than most Watchers or Slayers.

           

In many ways, Wesley’s relationship with the boy had settled many of his fears about becoming a parent before it was even a possibility. He knew now, perhaps, that he was not his father. “Have you finished the rest of your work?”

           

“Yeah, I finished hours ago,” Ty said easily.

           

Wes smiled. “Then I believe you’re free for the rest of the afternoon.”

           

Ty hesitated slightly, and then asked. “Uncle Wes? Would you come play darts with me? Please?”

           

“Darts?” Wes frowned. “What got you thinking about that?”

           

“It’s just that Dad was saying the other day how you can hit anything, and you’re almost the best shot he’s ever seen. And then he said you stole all his money playing darts. Would you teach me how to do that too?” Ty’s blue eyes looked pleadingly at his mentor, and Wesley could really find no good reason for saying no.

           

He had set up a dart board in his private office, where he spent little time. Wesley could most often be found in the archive room, reading documents, or possibly in the office of one of the other department heads. (Particularly the lab.) But _his_ office was where he retreated when he needed to be alone, to think through some knotty problem, and to facilitate thought he’d put up the dart board. He found it relaxed him; and it was where William had lost most of his money recently. Wesley was indeed a very good shot.

           

Patiently he began explaining to Ty how to hold the dart, the way of flicking the wrist just right. “It’s not about hitting the bulls-eye,” he explained. “It’s about sending the dart where you want it to go.”

           

“Would you take me to the shooting range sometime too?” Ty asked innocently.

           

Wesley stared at him. “Certainly not without asking your father first, and probably not for a few years yet. What’s brought this on?”

           

Ty shrugged. “I’ve gotta know everything I can, Uncle Wes, because someday I’m gonna do what my dad does. And he had a really long time to learn everything.”

           

The older man’s face softened. It wasn’t hard to love this boy, really. He was so young, and yet so old for his age, already thinking of duty and necessity. He and William had often spoken of the fact that he seemed to have lost his childhood, that they might be depriving him of it by keeping him out of school, by teaching him what they were. And yet the visions had showed him from an early age all the bad things that could happen, the things the world must be protected from. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, but it was the way of things. “It’s our job to make sure you know what you must know, Titus,” Wesley said gently. “And you’re well on your way already.”

           

Wes directed the boy’s attention back to the dart board and was rewarded with Ty’s cheers and groans as the darts plunked into the cork. Well, at least mostly into the cork; the wall would certainly have a few new holes.

           

Ty’s grin grew huge when his dart hit the outer circle of the bulls-eye, partly through luck, and he turned to make sure his uncle had seen. What he saw, however, was not Wesley leaning casually against the large wooden desk, but his uncle laying quiet in a hospital bed. The room was darkened, and he could see the lights of the monitors blinking steadily at him. “Uncle Wesley?” he asked.

           

This Wesley’s eyes fluttered open, and Ty could see that he was older. His hair was almost entirely gray, and there were deep lines in his face that he’d never seen before. “Titus?”

           

“I’m right here, Uncle Wes. I’m not going anywhere.” The words came out of his mouth, but Ty was barely aware of even thinking before he spoke, and he suddenly realized that he was older in this vision as well. He was taller, for one thing, and the hand he held out was larger and rougher.

           

“It’s good to see you again.” The man in the bed coughed weakly. “I wanted to be able to say good-bye.” And then the monitors began to bleep frantically, and Ty panicked, unable to figure out what was going on, what was happening, except that his uncle was dying. He was—

           

“Titus!” Ty’s eyes suddenly focused on the clear blue eyes of a worried Wesley. He let out a startled sigh that quickly turned into tearful sobs.

           

“I’m sorry, Uncle,” he choked out. “I’m sorry.”

           

Wesley held the boy in his arms, trying to get him to calm down, but nothing was working. Whatever he had seen, Ty was inconsolable, and he cursed under his breath. He was grateful enough that the visions weren’t the physical burden on the child that they had been on Cordelia, but the emotional toll was sometimes much too high. After a few minutes, he rose, cradling Ty in his arms. It seemed only his father could comfort him when he was like this.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Spike looked at the clock longingly. It was 3:00, and he knew that Angel was with Gunn in negotiations with an important client. On any other day he’d use the opportunity to sneak off and spend some quality time with Buffy and Ty. Today, however, he’d made an appointment for an interview to find a new director of Internal Security. If he’d only made it for earlier in the day…

           

He looked back down at the resume and cover letter, as well as the background check he’d had performed. The applicant, while young, seemed to have all the requisite education and experience. Bachelor’s degree from UCLA in Criminal Justice and Computer Science, he’d worked for a high-tech firm for the last six years developing security systems while assisting with government contracts for such agencies as the FBI, CIA, and NSA. And he was the best bet they had so far.

           

The background check had come out squeaky clean, as one might expect for someone with that kind of employment history. There was just one small detail: Spike knew he was missing something. _Something_ was bothering him about this man, and he had no idea what it might be.

           

The intercom beeped, and his secretary’s voice came through, letting him know his appointment was waiting for him. “Send him in,” he replied, and waited to see if he could put his disquiet to rest.

           

The man who entered looked to be in his late twenties, with shaggy brown hair and alert blue-green eyes. He moved gracefully, and Spike recognized in his movements an innate balance that spoke of a warrior’s skills. But his disquiet only grew; there was something familiar about his eyes, the chin, the slope of the shoulders. In fact, he looked like—

           

“Mr. Smith?” the man held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

           

“Same here, Connor,” Spike replied, shaking the proffered hand and waving at the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.” And as he sat, it all came back to him.

           

_Angel, his eyes grief stricken as he watched Ty and told the story. “I had to give him up, William. It was the only hope he had, under the circumstances. I had failed him, so I had to let him go.”_

They had spoken of it just a few days before, and Angel had been just as anguished, more than ten years later, as he had been that first night he’d told Spike of Connor. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t put the two together.

           

“Tell me a little about yourself and why you decided to apply at Wolfram & Hart,” he invited, desperately making a bid for time. Time to get himself under control and figure out what the bloody hell he was going to do. He couldn’t let Angel see him; he certainly couldn’t hire him. But the man was the first truly qualified candidate to cross his path, and he didn’t want to turn him away, damn it.

           

As Connor explained how he’d heard of the law firm, (an anonymous letter detailing the job offer) Spike recalled what he’d learned from the background check. Both parents dead in a freak accident two years after he’d started college. Two sisters, both in different parts of the country, none of them apparently close. A few close friends, no real romantic relationships. Dedicated to the job, whatever that might be at the time. Now Spike knew why he’d sounded so familiar; it wasn’t just the name, he was exactly like Angel.

           

“Tell me what you’d bring to the table that our other applicants might lack,” Spike said.

           

Connor hesitated. “I’ve heard about the kind of work you do,” he said. “And I know that you deal with some pretty strange stuff. I’ve done a few side jobs for people, and I can guarantee I’m in better physical shape and better equipped to deal with whatever you have to throw at me than anyone.”

           

“Is that right?” Spike asked, not doubting it for a minute, but playing the skeptic. “What does that mean?”

           

Connor swallowed. Hard. “That means I’m faster, stronger and more agile than just about anybody.”

           

Spike stared at him. He would be of course, with Angel and Darla as parents. Just because Angel had played around with the boy’s memories, as well as everyone else’s, it didn’t change the physical facts. How much to say, to reveal? Or should he complete the interview and let Connor walk away forever? That would certainly be the easiest solution, of course.

           

Suddenly the door burst open. “William, I’m sorry to bother you, but—”

           

Wesley held a still-crying Ty in his arms, and Spike knew what that meant. Another vision, and one so disturbing that he was the only one with any hope of calming his son. “Sorry, Connor,” he said. “I have to deal with this.” He looked from his old friend to Angel’s son and sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Connor, this is our head of Archives, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Wes, this is Connor. He’s interviewing for the internal security position.”

           

He went over the couch where Wes had deposited Ty and knelt next to him. “All right, Little Man,” he murmured. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. Just take a deep breath.” Spike watched as Ty struggled to obey him and ran one hand over the boy’s straight, dark hair. “That’s right, lad. Just breathe.”

           

When he had a little more control, Spike asked quietly. “What was it about, Ty?”

           

“Uncle Wes,” Ty said, his lip still trembling, his control obviously tenuous. “He was dying.”

           

Spike did his best to keep a poker face. That was _not_ good news. “Tell me about it. Could you tell when it was?”

           

Ty shook his head. “But Uncle Wes was old, and it was in the hospital.” Wide blue eyes so much like his own pleaded with him to make it okay. “He was really sick, I think.”

           

Spike shared a half-relieved glance with Wesley, who looked a little shaken that it was his own death Ty had seen. They shouldn’t have been surprised, of course. While Ty typically had visions of the near-future, there had been a few flashes of the distant-future as well. It wasn’t so unlikely that he might see their deaths at some point.

           

Taking a deep breath, Spike looked deeply into his son’s eyes. Knowing of nothing else to say, and hating himself for what he was about to do, he said, “Everyone dies, Ty. If what you saw was in the distant future, there’s nothing we can do about it now. There’s probably nothing we would be able to do about it then. That’s just the way life is.” It wasn’t fair, Spike thought resentfully, as he saw Ty absorb what he was telling him and nod bravely. No ten-year-old should have to face the fact that his beloved uncle would someday die. He certainly shouldn’t have to see it in a vision years before it would ever happen.

           

“I know, Dad,” Ty said. He gave a shaky smile. “It just kind of freaked me out.”

           

Now Spike gathered his son into his arms and held him. “I know, Little Man. It would have freaked me out too.” As he released Ty, he saw him looking over at Connor, who had been watching the entire scene with more than a little puzzlement. Even as he opened his mouth to explain, Ty got a peculiar look on his face.

           

“Hello, cousin,” Ty said, standing and facing Connor. And then, in a voice that seemed to come both from him and _somewhere else_ at the same time, he said, “You are your father’s son, and you will be a Champion.”

 

There was a long moment of silence after Ty had made his pronouncement, as the boy blinked and shook off whatever spell it had been. It certainly wasn’t one of his regular visions, and he seemed not to have even realized he’d done anything at all as he looked curiously from one man to another. William was more than a little stunned, and he could see that Wesley felt the same. There was, of course, no way he was going to let Connor go at this point, now that he seemed connected to Ty in some strange way. Thankfully, he was saved from having to deal with the implications immediately by Dawn’s entrance into the office.

 

“Spike!” she called. “I’m really sorry to burst in on you like this, but Buffy just called. She ran into some trouble on the training run, and she needs you now.”

 

All thoughts of what had just transpired disappeared from his mind as this new catastrophe revealed itself. And it was a catastrophe, of that he had no doubt. Buffy _never_ called him in for backup like this unless something really bad had happened. “Fine,” he said, turning to look at Connor. “Do you want the job?”

 

The younger man blinked and then nodded slowly. “Yes sir, but—”

 

“You just got your first look at the strange happenings at Wolfram & Hart,” Spike said, with a touch of grim satisfaction. “Dawn, this is Connor, our new head of Internal Security. You’re in charge of him today and tomorrow, until I can get things straightened out. Dawn is Wesley’s second in the archives. Both of you are in charge of Ty until Angel can take him.” He then looked at Wes. “You ready for some action? Angel and Gunn are in negotiations.”

 

Wes’s eyes lit up. It was rare that he got to participate in the physical action anymore. “I’ll gather my things and meet you in the lobby.”

 

“Meet me in the garage,” Spike corrected him. “We’ll take one of the company cars.”

 

He might have asked Dawn to go along for the ride, but he needed someone to take care of both Connor and Ty. And it had been the work of a moment to let her know that Connor was to be given the grand tour, told to return tomorrow morning, and not, under any circumstances, was Angel to see him. Thankfully, all he’d gotten from that last instruction was a raised eyebrow, though he knew he’d be hearing about it later.

 

Wes was waiting for him, crossbow slung across one shoulder. Spike could see the bulge of twin guns under his jacket, and he raised an eyebrow. “You do know bullets don’t kill vampires, right?” he asked, amused.

 

“They’re new,” Wesley confessed. “Fred’s been working on bullets that contain wood. The casings are made of teak.”

 

“The hardest wood in the world,” Spike replied, understanding beginning to dawn. “And this is the first chance you’ve had to try them.”

 

Wes grinned happily. “Got it in one.”

 

Spike chose the Viper, wanting one of the faster cars. They had little to go on; Buffy had instituted the 911 signal about a year ago when she’d first begun having special “Slayer Training Seminars.” All it took was a couple pushes of a button and the signal got sent to the designee’s pager. Since the younger Summers was the one who wasn’t in meetings today, she got to be emergency-girl, and it was her job to round up help if something went wrong. This was the first time something had gone wrong.

 

“Do you know what Buffy and the others were supposed to be doing today?” Wesley asked.

 

Spike shook his head. “It was just supposed to be a few vamps. Certainly nothing they couldn’t handle.”

 

The other man considered that for a minute, and then looked over at Spike seriously. “What happened in your office, William?”

 

“I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. “Do you have any ideas?”

 

Wes hesitated, and then said quietly. “There was a prophecy I ran across a few weeks ago. It’s distantly related to the Shanshu prophecy, and I thought it might have something to do with Ty, since it talks about the son of the Phoenix. On the other hand, it names him as one of two ‘cousins,’ or sons of brothers, and I knew very well that you don’t have a brother.” When Spike didn’t immediately correct him, he continued. “The only person who might even come close to fitting that description would be Angel.”

 

“That would mean Angel would have to have a son,” Spike said evenly, hoping that nothing in his manner would give him away. He was a terrible liar, and Wesley was better than most at reading him anyway.

 

“It would,” Wes agreed, but he said nothing more for a long time. As they neared their destination, he finally spoke again. “I understand that there may be things you aren’t at liberty to share with me, Will. But should I have another look at that prophecy, or is it a dead end?”

 

Spike was silent, unsure of how to answer. Say one thing, and potentially important information could be lost. Say another, and Wes would know at least part of Angel’s secret. “Keep looking into it,” he said. “I think it might be important.”

 

“As you wish.” And Spike was grateful that Wesley trusted him enough at this point to let it go at that.

 

Seconds later they were at the warehouse that was supposed to have contained nothing but a few vampires. Neither man said anything; they had worked together for too long to need words before going into battle. They went around to the side entrance, Spike twirled his ax once before breaking the door in with one sharp kick. It didn’t take much force, and then he was inside, ax ready, Wesley covering him from behind with the crossbow.

 

Inside the warehouse was chaos. Spike could see Buffy battling a large demon off to his left, holding her right hand to her side, apparently hurt. The girl on the ground behind her was unmoving, and his Slayer was obviously trying to protect her. A quick look around showed a young Slayer fighting off about three vampires at once, and Emmie holding her own with a large demon. Spike immediately headed to the left, while Wesley went right. They both knew by now that Spike’s first priority would be to Buffy.

 

The ax, Spike’s favorite, was the twin of Gunn’s old one. Gunn had gotten tired of having Spike borrow his all the time, and had found someone to make him one exactly like it. It was razor sharp and perfectly balanced. Spike took off the demon’s head with one swipe of the ax and met Buffy’s gaze. “You alright, luv?”

 

She nodded breathlessly. “Help the others,” she commanded, kneeling down next to the fallen girl. A tree name, Spike remembered. Birch or something like that. Once he was certain she was fine, he turned to see the Slayer struggling with four vampires now, another couple having come from out of the woodwork. Wes had emptied his crossbow and both clips of the pistols. The demon hadn’t even slowed, and Spike called out to him. “Wes!” He sent the ax spinning end over end, and Wes snatched it out of the air. Deciding that the ax should be able to take care of it, he went to help the other Slayer with the vampires. Pulling a stake out of his belt where he’d stuck it earlier, he managed to dust two of them in two quick swipes. Taking care of half the problem allowed the girl, Kris, he thought, to take out the last two.

 

Kris gave a sigh of relief and gave Spike a shaky smile. “Thanks,” she murmured.

 

“My pleasure, ducks,” he replied easily, turning to look for Wes and Emmie. Wesley was cleaning off the ax on the back of the demon. Buffy came up next to them, followed closely by the younger Slayer.

 

“Where’s Lena?” Buffy asked suddenly, her voice quiet.

 

Wesley straightened and tossed the ax back to Spike. “William.” Spike followed quickly. It didn’t take them long to find the body. Lena’s neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, her eyes wide open. The ex-Watcher knelt next to the body and tenderly shut the eyelids.

           

Spike heard a tear-filled gasp from behind him; one of the younger Slayers he was sure. And when he turned around he could see identical looks on Emmie and Buffy’s faces. Clenched jaws and guilty eyes. “Wes, get Buffy and the others back to the offices. I’ll call the clean-up crew and take care of the rest of it.” Buffy looked like she might argue, but he gave a quick shake of his head. “Please, luv. You need to get that wrist checked out.”

 

Buffy sighed and nodded, knowing he was right. Even Slayer healing took time with broken bones, and she wasn’t the only one hurt. “Fine. I’ll see you there then.”

           

Emmie spoke up quietly. “I’ll stay with you, Will.”

           

Spike wanted to argue, but she wasn’t badly injured, and the truth was he really didn’t want to stay with the body alone. “Alright then, luv.” Spike called the clean-up team as soon as the others had left. He knew that they would take care of calling the police and dealing with the body; it’s what they were there for. When he’d made the call, he led Emmie away from the dead girl. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

           

She shook her head. “I really don’t know, Will. It was just supposed to be a small nest of vampires, but when we got here—” The young Slayer took a deep steadying breath, and went back to the beginning, anticipating Spike’s request. “When we got here, Buffy took Birch with her, and I took Lena and Kris through the back. It was a routine training run, and then we got in here, and suddenly we were surrounded by vampires _and_ demons. I don’t know what most of them were, but we couldn’t even stage a retreat. I still don’t know how Buffy managed to fight them off and contact you.”

           

“There’s nothin’ you could have done about it, Mary Elizabeth,” Spike said gently, knowing that she was busy beating herself up. “These things happen sometimes.”

           

Emmie shook her head. “Lena was under my care. She was my responsibility.” And then whispering, “She was only seventeen.”

           

Spike didn’t even bother replying, only pulled her into his arms and let her cry out her heartache. This wasn’t the only time he had comforted her, of course. There had been the time she’d come to him after her first fight with Angel. The time after she’d realized what it would mean to love a vampire, with no hope of a real future. Buffy had accused him of stepping in too often, but what she hadn’t realized was that Emmie was very much like his younger sister, and he hated to see her in pain, of any kind. And this, losing people under your command, was pain of the worst sort.

 

~~~~~ 

 

When it was all over, when the clean-up crew had come, and he could take Emmie back to the offices. After he could reassure himself that Buffy would be fine, and that the two remaining Slayers would survive, and they started to hash out what had happened and what went wrong. After they had all argued about why demons and vampires were working together in the first place, and what they were going to do about it. That’s when Spike finally had a bit of breathing room, and went to find his son.

           

Ty was in Angel’s office, a sanctuary of sorts. Angel rarely did much actual work in there, preferring instead to move over the building and occupy his friends’ offices. Indeed, about the only thing the vampire used his office for anymore was brooding, and it was largely understood that if Angel wasn’t using the office, Ty was welcome to it.

 

Sure enough, even at 11 when the boy should have been fast asleep, he was playing one of those video games he and his vampire uncle were so fond of. “Hey, Little Man,” Spike said softly.

 

Ty was silent, waiting until he could get to a stopping point and save it, before turning to look at his father. “How’d everything go?” he asked.

 

Spike could never quite believe that his son was only ten; there was nothing childish about him. “As well as might be expected,” he allowed quietly. “Are you alright, luv?”

 

The boy looked away, shrugging slightly. “I guess. It was so real, Dad.”

 

“I know.” He watched as his son rose from his spot on the floor and came over to sit next to him on Angel’s black leather couch. “I wish I could make this go away for you, son. I really do.”

 

Ty shook his head. “No,” he said. “It’s okay, Dad, really. It’s right that I have these visions, because it was meant to be.”

 

“I ever find out who picked you, I’m goin’ to beat ‘em within an inch of their lives,” Spike growled, and pulled Ty in close to him. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Dad,” Ty replied. And then, more quietly still, “When are you going to tell Uncle Angel that you hired Connor?”

 

Spike winced noticeably. That was one of the things he was hoping to avoid for as long as possible. He didn’t even want to know how his son had guessed that Connor was important in the grand scheme of things. “Not until I have to.”


	3. Of Prophecies and Other Things

“I can’t believe you’d do something like this to me, Spike,” Angel said. He wasn’t shouting—not yet—but the intensity of his tone and the look on his face had Spike wanting to back up a couple paces. Not that _he_ was scared, but Angelus could be one scary guy, and right now Angel was bearing a lot more resemblance to his soulless alter-ego.

 

Spike had managed to keep Connor out of Angel’s way for over a week, not an unimpressive feat. But he had to give Angel an update on the hiring process at some point, and secrets weren’t kept around Wolfram & Hart for long. Truthfully, he was surprised Angel hadn’t already found out. And he was hurt by the betrayal evident in Angel’s voice. “This isn’t about you, Angel,” he replied firmly. “This is about the fact that your kid has a part to play in what’s comin’.”

 

Angel wasn’t listening to him. “You knew what this would do to me,” the big vampire hissed. “He’s my son, and you—”

 

“And I, nothin’.” Spike’s eyes were blazing at this point. Angel wasn’t in the mood to do anything but cast the blame, and it was beginning to piss him off. “This is about Ty, Angel. You remember, my son? The one who calls you uncle an’ likes to tease you ‘bout your girlfriend?”

 

The vampire backed off just a hair. “Spike, you know I care about Ty, but—”

 

“No,” Spike said, looking him straight in the eye. “Get this through your thick head, pillock. If I had known who Connor was before he walked into my office, I never would have offered him an interview, never mind that he’s the best applicant we’d had so far. If I’d figured it out and Ty never showed up to start spoutin’ some bloody prophetic crap, I still would have chased him off.

 

“But as it stands, Wes is busy translatin’ some prophecy that seems to apply to both of ‘em, Ty did have some sort of episode soon’s he saw him, and now we’ve got vampires and demons workin’ together, an’ it all spells apocalypse.”

 

“I know that,” Angel said quietly. “But you didn’t have to hire him. Dammit, William, you know how I feel about him.”

           

“This isn’t about you anymore, Angelus,” Spike said forcefully. “This is about Ty. He’s linked into this somehow, and I don’t doubt it also explains how the bloody hell he came to be mine by blood. So, if your son is part of all this, I want him near so I can keep an eye on him, an’ on what’s goin’ on.”

           

“Fine,” Angel said angrily. “Do what you like, Spike. You always do anyway.”

           

Spike froze. He wanted to beat Angel to within an inch of his unlife. He wanted to make Angel see that this wasn’t about hurting him or anyone else, it was about saving the life of one little boy and making sure the world didn’t end on their watch. But he could see in Angel’s eyes that he somehow blamed him for it all. “You don’t have to see him,” Spike said. “But you’ll have to meet him and be civil when you do. And take my advice, Angel,” the younger man glared at him. “You’d better tell the rest of them. Wes _needs_ this information to decipher his prophecy, and if Emmie ever finds out, she’ll probably stake you. Not to mention the boy. When this starts heating up, it’d be better if it doesn’t get sprung on him.”

           

But Angel didn’t bother replying, turning from his friend to stare out the window, tension in every angle. He wasn’t ready to hear it, Spike knew, but he’d better get ready, because this was bound to get a lot uglier before it was all over.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Wesley was muttering to himself as he went over the prophecy and his own translation. There was little room for error here. Time seemed to be growing short, and he needed to get this right the first time. He had made a mistake in the past and it had been—

           

He frowned. Other than the mistake he’d made with the Shanshu prophecy, telling Angel he was going to die, there hadn’t been another. And yet, he had the strangest feeling that he’d shot something all to hell in the past and that it had been costly. It was a very strange feeling, like déjà vu.

           

“Wesley?” He turned to see Fred standing in the middle of the living room, watching him. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”

           

He gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Fred. I was just working on this translation, and I lost track of the time.” Now that he’d been reminded, he glanced over at the clock and winced when he saw it was after 2. Getting up in the morning was going to be a bugger. “You should be sleeping.”

           

“I was,” Fred said, amused, coming over to him and beginning to rub his shoulders. “My stomach was kind of queasy though, and it woke me up. You’ve been really busy with that prophecy.”

           

It was not meant as a reproach, and Wesley knew it, but he still felt badly. It had been a while since they had been able to spend time together. “I know, but it just seems important right now. I’m almost certain it centers around Ty, but I just can’t put the pieces together. I feel as though I’m missing something, perhaps something that should be obvious.” He leaned back into her embrace. “Did you and your mother have a nice conversation?”

           

Fred smiled. “Yeah, it was nice to catch up. She and Daddy are thrilled about the baby, of course, but she said they’re not coming up until closer to the birth. Mama was pretty insistent about me not traveling.”

           

“Your mother is a wise woman,” Wesley murmured.

           

Fred rolled her eyes in response. “I’m only five months along, Wesley. That hardly makes me an invalid. Have you talked to your parents yet?”

           

Wesley squirmed just a little bit. “No. I’m waiting for the right time, you know.”

           

“And when is that going to be?” Fred moved so she could look him in the eye. “You’re not going to wait until the baby’s born, are you?”

           

He’d certainly thought about it. “I’ll call,” he promised. “It’s just—”

           

Fred’s glare softened to a smile. “I know. It was hard to tell my folks too, and I _knew_ they’d be thrilled.” Suddenly the look on her face changed to one of surprise, and she smiled widely. “Here.” She grabbed his hand and placed it over her abdomen, where there was just a slight bulge, hardly noticeable yet.

           

Wesley’s eyes widened as he felt a sharp thump against his hand, and he looked at his girlfriend in awe. “Was that—?”

           

“Yep,” Fred replied. “I’ve been waiting for you to be around for that.”

           

Wesley kept his hand where it was, reveling in the sense of motion, the baby suddenly becoming real for him. Before, it had been an abstraction almost. But now, it was real, just under his fingertips, and he was overwhelmed with love for both child and mother. “Fred, I love you. You know that, right?”

           

Fred looked at him, smiling. “Of course I do, Wesley.”

           

“I don’t say it often enough,” he said.

           

She shrugged. “But I know, silly.” The woman hesitated. He was so reticent, her Wesley, so afraid to say what he felt. She remembered thinking him distant after his break with Angel and the rest of them. He had never been cold before. Reserved, perhaps, but never cold. And really, it hadn’t been until after William had come with Ty, and she’d seen that there was so much to him that he rarely shared. She’d caught him and the boy in his office one day, and Wesley had been teaching Ty to do a little magic. Wesley had been so patient, so gentle, and her heart had been lost in that moment.

           

“You tell me every day, Wes,” she finally said. And then, reaching out a hand, she led him off to bed.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Connor held back a sigh of frustration. “This is a state of the art system,” he said. “It’s guaranteed to notify you of intruders, plus it means instant notification of all emergencies. You build the rest of the security systems around this one, which means that everyone who needs to know is instantly warned when something goes wrong.”

           

Spike eyed the younger man with some humor. “We’ve got a system in place,” he reminded him.

           

“Right. The magical protections,” Connor replied glumly. He still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

           

“That’s right,” Spike replied. “Look, I know it takes some getting used to, but magic is real, and it does work.”

           

Connor pounced on his opening. “Most of the time. But who would suspect a magical system backed up by this kind of electronics? This kind of thing is virtually fool-proof, and with the two of them together, you aren’t going to have holes.”

           

Spike raised an eyebrow. “There are always holes,” he objected.

           

“But they’ll be minimized,” Connor said persuasively. “You’re covering yourself on all fronts.”

           

Spike finally nodded, smiling in what looked to be satisfaction. “Well, lad, you’ve convinced me. Now, it’s just a matter of convincing Angel, and he’s a cheap bastard if there ever was one.”

           

“Is he okay with you hiring me?” Connor asked. He’d finally met the vampire last week, and had found him somewhat cold, in more ways than one. Oh, Angel had been polite enough, but he’d been distant, even cursory in his questions, and then had dismissed him with barely another word. Connor, to be quite frank, had expected a little more in the way of welcome.

           

While he understood that Wolfram & Hart bordered on nepotistic in its hiring practices, everyone else had been more than kind. William and Buffy had even had him over for dinner, where he’d been able to get a much closer look at Dawn. The others had been friendly and warm at least. His position was on a level with most of theirs, really. But Angel was another matter altogether, and he couldn’t quite figure it out.

           

“He’s fine with me hiring you, Connor,” Spike finally replied after a few minutes of silence. “Angel—Angel has had some difficult circumstances over the past few years, and he doesn’t warm up to strangers quickly. Give him time, he’ll come around. You _were_ the best person for the job, and he can’t argue with that.”

           

Spike stood. “In fact, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about designing a security system for my house. You can never be too safe, you know.”

           

Connor stood as well. “That would be fine. Security is as much a hobby of mine as it is my job.” The other man might have left then, but he stopped him with a question. “You never did tell me what happened in your office the first day I was here. Dawn told me your son has visions, but she seemed as surprised by what was said as I think you were. So what did all that mean?”

           

Spike looked up to the ceiling, as though praying for patience, or perhaps wisdom. “Connor, I can’t tell you.”

           

“You won’t tell me,” he accused.

           

Spike faced him, and there was a sad, almost wistful expression on his face. “No, lad, I can’t tell you. Believe me, if I could, you’d be the first person to know. Part of it is that I was, as you said, surprised. Flat stunned, if you want the truth. The other part of it is that I’m not free to tell you. That information is privileged, and I’ll be buggered if I let that cat out of the bag. Got enough secrets of my own to appreciate another person’s privacy. ‘m sorry for that.”

           

The funny thing was, Connor really believed that he was. The look on Spike’s face said that he really wasn’t happy with the situation, but he couldn’t do anything about it. “What happens if my not having that information puts this firm, and the people who work here, in danger?” he challenged.

           

“I’ll have to live with it,” the former vampire replied. “I live with a lot most days.” He turned to go, but just before he got out the door, Connor heard him mutter, “Never believed he would be that bloody much like his dad.”

           

Connor almost went after him. Almost bodily dragged him back into his office to explain himself and that comment. He was fully aware that William had done an extensive background check, but there was no way he could have known his father. Which meant he knew something else, he was aware of something about Connor’s past that _Connor_ wasn’t even aware of. And he didn’t like that feeling one bit.

           

It was a sense that had been growing since just after the deaths of his parents. It had led him to push himself through school, to get a job, to push himself physically. There were things no one was able to explain; like why he was faster, stronger, than your ordinary mortal. Why he never, ever got sick. Why had a car crash that should have killed him barely left a scratch? Why, once he discovered the truth about vampires, and other creatures of the night, could he hunt them, find them, and kill them? There had to be an explanation for all of this, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the place to find them.

           

Somehow he knew that he couldn’t go to William, that to do so would only get him more evasion. Even if the man wanted to tell him, something was holding him back. No, he needed someone else, someone who would be sympathetic. He needed—

 

~~~~~ 

 

“Dawn.”

 

“Hey, Connor.” She looked up from her desk and smiled at him. He found her dazzling, really; her beauty, her intelligence, the aura of strength and poise she wore like a garment. If his life wasn’t more than a little crazy right this moment, he would have been trying to figure out how he was going to ask her to dinner.

 

“Hi,” he said, a trifle awkwardly. “I was wondering if you could help me.”

           

Dawn gave him a penetrating look, and nodded. “Sure. Why don’t you shut the door?” she suggested, and then put her pen down. “Whatcha need?”

           

He sat, and then slowly began to explain what he knew. About himself, about what was going on, about feeling as though something were being kept from him. “I just feel like I can’t be sure of anything right now,” he confessed. “I wasn’t sure who else to ask, but you seemed like you might understand, and maybe like you’d be able to help me.”

           

When Connor risked looking into her eyes, he found more understanding there than he’d even thought possible. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, that’s for sure,” Dawn said smiling. “And may I say I know exactly how you feel?”

           

Normally, Connor might have bristled at that, but somehow he believed her. “Really? Then you’ll help me?”

           

Dawn nodded slowly. “I had some of the same questions about myself at one point in time, and a friend helped me dig up the answers. Not everybody was happy that I’d found out, but I think it was better in the long run.”

           

He swallowed, feeling a huge sense of relief. “Where do we start?”

           

She smiled. “Where everything starts. In the file room.”

 

The room was huge, full of more filing drawers and cabinets than Connor had ever thought possible. “You sure you won’t get into trouble for this?” he asked, concerned, his voice a mere whisper.

           

Dawn shrugged. “That friend I told you about? He picked a lock for me and broke into a shop. He also happens to be your boss. I think we’ll be okay, even if we do get into a little trouble.”

           

Connor frowned suddenly. “Is that why you and your sister call him Spike?”

           

“Uh huh.” Dawn was looking at the labels on the drawers, trying to figure out which one, exactly, that she wanted. There were a lot to choose from. “You knew William was a vampire, right?”

           

“Heard a rumor to that effect,” he admitted, trailing along in her wake.

           

“Well, that was his name, Spike.” Dawn shrugged and suddenly smiled at him. “Of course, his name was William too, but everybody called him Spike. And then he died and forgot who he was for a while, so everybody called him William. And then he remembered, so now he’s Spike again. It’s pretty much take your pick, since he’s both.”

           

“Right.” Connor hadn’t followed all of that. “Sounds like an interesting story.”

           

“If you have about a day,” Dawn agreed. “We should go to the beach someday. I’ll give you the whole sordid tale.”

           

Connor blinked in surprise, not quite believing that she’d sort of just asked him on a date. “Uh, yeah. It’s a date then,” he said, inwardly groaning at his own stupidity.

           

But she just replied with one of those blinding smiles of hers, and he felt his heart rate speed up just a little bit, along with hers. That made him feel better. “Here we are,” she said triumphantly. “I took a risk and decided to look you up by your first name, and not your last. The most recent background file would have you listed under your last name.”

           

Connor watched nervously as she rifled through the drawer, and then her eyes widened as she pulled out a folder, which she then handed to him wordlessly. He opened it, and was stunned to see a photograph of Angel holding a baby, as well as the translated script of a prophecy. He looked at her. “What does this mean?”

           

“It means there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye,” she replied, trying for some levity. And then, pointing to a sticker on the folder, “It also means there’s a contract with you in it somewhere, and we need to find it.”

           

But a search for the contract turned up nothing, and they both finally had to admit defeat. “This doesn’t tell me anything,” Connor protested, staring at the picture and the rough translation. And what it might tell him was too impossible.

           

“I think we need to talk to Spike,” Dawn said quietly. “He can be pretty closemouthed about this kind of thing, but if you confront him with the truth, he’ll usually spill the rest of it.” The young woman shook her head. “I know this sucks, Connor, trust me. I really have been there and done that. But I don’t know what to tell you at this point. Contracts don’t get shredded. They always have a copy somewhere, which means that someone has it physically. If you want my best guess, that someone’s probably either Spike or Angel.”

           

Angel. Connor stared at the picture once again, trying to remember, to jog some part of his mind that wanted to understand. That wanted to put words to the emotions he already had. And he didn’t have those words. “All right,” he finally said. “Let’s go talk to Spike then.”

           

~~~~~ 

 

Spike was more than a little worried at the moment. Wes had just given him an update on his translation of the prophecy, and it was both vague and disturbing, talking about sons and brothers, all of whom were named different things. So far, Wes hadn’t been able to find the name of the second brother, but the first was always called “the Phoenix,” and Spike had a good idea of what that meant. What it also meant was that Wes needed the rest of the story to make any sense at all out of the wording, and he hadn’t been released from his promise yet.

           

“Bollocks,” he snarled under his breath. This whole thing was getting them nowhere; he was going to have to have another talk with Angel, and this one was going to involve his fists if he couldn’t get the big wanker to see sense.

           

“Spike?” He looked up to see Dawn in his doorway, Connor a step behind her. And they were holding a file. Spike gave an inward groan. The Powers were testing him, he knew, because this was just getting a little bit ridiculous.

           

Motioning them both in, he sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Dawn shut the door. Oh, yeah. This was going to be interesting. “Connor had some questions, so he asked me to help him out. And now we both have concerns.” She handed him the file, and he flipped it open. He should have known that W&H had kept records.

           

“What do you want to know?” he asked evenly.

           

“I want to know what you do,” Connor replied. “Dawn says there’s a contract related to me, and I think you know what was in it, or at least where it is. And I need to know how you know my father.”

           

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow. “What makes you think I do?”

           

“You said so. You said I was like him.”

           

The ex-vampire could have shot himself. “Blasted vampire hearing,” he muttered. “I always forget about that. Sit, both of you,” he said more loudly. “Dawn, I’ll need you to back me up, and I’m going to swear you both to secrecy for the time being. Understood?”

           

Dawn blinked. “Back you up?”

           

Spike didn’t reply immediately, instead punching his intercom and letting his secretary know that he wasn’t to be bothered by anybody for any reason whatsoever. “I don’t care if the world’s ending,” he said. “No one is to come through that door.” Then he reached over, unlocked one of his desk drawers and pulled out a file, one that had a sticker on it matching the one on Connor’s personal file. Silently, he passed the file over to Connor.

           

The younger man flipped it open and read through the legalese as quickly as possible, frowning in consternation. “But this is about Angel’s takeover of Wolfram & Hart. I don’t see what it has to do with me.”

           

“Keep reading,” Spike said evenly.

           

“Angel will take the L.A. holdings of Wolfram & Hart under the following conditions: One: that he be free and clear to do with the firm as he pleases. Two: that his son be placed…” Connor’s voice trailed off slowly. “It’s not possible,” he whispered. “Vampires can’t have children.”

           

“Normally, you’d be right,” Spike agreed. “Except that the rules don’t seem to apply to Angel and me. Ty is mine by blood, and you are Angel’s by blood. The difference is that your mum, Darla, was a full-out vamp, no soul involved.”

           

Connor shook his head. “No, I don’t remember any of this. This contract is dated ten years ago, and I was with my parents. They have my birth certificate, I don’t—”

           

“It’s possible, Connor,” Spike said. “Just ask Dawn.”

           

Dawn suddenly realized exactly what Spike had meant by “back up.” “It’s true,” she said slowly. “Memories can be planted. I remember growing up with my mom and Buffy, but I wasn’t actually real until I was 14. I guess.” She frowned, trying to think of how that sounded, and if it made sense, but Connor was shaking his head.

           

“But no one else here knows me. Except for you,” his tone turned accusatory, and Spike held up a hand in his own defense.

           

“Look, Connor, I knew about you, but only because I made a guess after I brought Ty in. The way Angel looked at him told me everything I needed to know, and I didn’t have a lot of memories of my own at that point; I didn’t know Angel wasn’t supposed to have a kid, to be honest.” Spike sighed. “I told Angel to tell you, but he didn’t want to, and he didn’t want to tell anyone else either. All I’ll say is that he gave you up because he loved you, because he thought you’d be happier and safer away from him.”

           

Connor couldn’t believe it, and yet wouldn’t it explain why he was the way he was? Why he was so strong and fast and damn near invulnerable? He shook his head slowly, and Spike decided to get them both out of there. “Dawn, take Connor. Go out or something. Tell him as much as you feel comfortable telling him about yourself. I’ll have to talk to Angel later today, and we’ll have to break the news. This is getting us nowhere, and he needs to know what’s going on.”

           

Dawn nodded, her eyes deeply sympathetic. “I’ll have my cell on if you need to get in touch,” she said, taking Connor’s arm and tugging him along.”

           

Spike put his head down on his desk. He should just go back to bed. Crawl under the covers and hope that this was all a dream when he woke up again, because Angel was definitely going to kill him. Not to mention the rest of the blood that would be shed once the rest of them found out that a secret of this magnitude had been kept.

           

“Spike? You okay?” He felt Buffy’s hands descend to his shoulders, working on the knots that were there.

           

“No,” he said, his reply muffled by his arms. “I am well and truly buggered. Angel’s going to kill me.”

           

Buffy rolled her eyes, but didn’t reply. She was used to Spike’s melodrama at this point. “Do you want to find an island, luv?” he asked wistfully. “Just you, me, and Ty? We can come back when this newest apocalypse is over.”

           

“You think that’s what this is going to be?” she asked. But when he stood and met her eyes, she could see the fear there, and knew that it wasn’t simple overreaction on his part. “Okay, an island sounds good,” she said, a reply to the look on his face.

           

He gathered her into his arms, and they took strength from each other. It was better now than it ever had been before, Spike thought. Even that last year as they’d faced the First, they hadn’t been able to count on each other like this. They had been friends and allies, comrades, but now they were lovers, truly two halves of the same whole. “Buffy-luv?”

           

“Yeah?”

           

“Do you trust me?”

           

“With all my soul.” She pulled back and looked up at him.

           

“Good,” he murmured. “Let’s not keep secrets, pet. This is going to get ugly before the end.”

           

Buffy had no idea what he meant, but she knew it had something to do with the prophecy Wesley was working on, something to do with Connor and what Ty had seen, or rather, said. She had a feeling that the two were connected. “No secrets, Spike,” she agreed. “Though, just so you know, I’m still not telling you what I got you for your birthday.”


	4. When It All Hits the Fan

Emmie entered William’s office after a perfunctory knock. She was used to being able to come and go at pretty much all times, unless he’d left a “do not disturb” order with his secretary. She’d needed to give him some reports, and had been planning on discussing some other things that had been happening, but it seemed he was nowhere to be found. She frowned; he was almost always in his office this time of day.

           

Shrugging, she decided to put the reports on his desk now and catch up with him later. But Emmie had been feeling a little clumsy lately, and putting the reports down on his desk knocked another file to the floor, sending papers everywhere. She sighed in frustration, glad she wasn’t this much of a klutz when she was fighting.

           

Picking up the folder, she began gathering the pictures and bits of paper that had scattered. It wasn’t like she had meant to pry, but she couldn’t help but see the picture as she tucked it back in, and William didn’t really have any secrets from her.

           

The picture itself was of Angel, with a bundle in his arms that could only be a baby. Emmie was puzzled; the only kid Angel knew or hung around with as far as she knew was Ty, but they hadn’t met until the boy was at least five. So it couldn’t be William’s son in the picture, and the clothing Angel was wearing didn’t give the time-frame away, except that it was probably in the last decade or so. Well, it had to be, because Angel had been in Sunnydale before that, and then eating rats in an alley before _that_. Which could only mean one thing—

           

With trembling fingers, she began looking through the rest of the file, noting the translated prophecy and the brief reports present. Emmie also saw the sticker on the file, and without thinking about what she was doing (prying, and not something she usually did), she began looking for the contract file, and soon found it.

           

You didn’t spend time in a law firm without learning how to decipher the legalese, and at this point she could read it almost as easily as a newspaper article. It didn’t make sense to her, though. That Angel had a son, and then hadn’t told anyone. That he hadn’t told _her_ , which was more to the point. They had been honest with each other, or so she had thought. Honesty was important to her, most important really. She had to be able to trust her lover, or the relationship wouldn’t work.

           

Oh, maybe he hadn’t lied, but to hide something like this—Her first reaction was to try to deny it, to pretend that it had never happened and just walk away. But her anger wouldn’t let her. She didn’t want to leave him; she loved him too much for that. However, Emmie did want to let him know just how badly he had hurt her by hiding this little secret.

           

With that, she set the file down on the desk, back where she found it, and marched the short distance down the hall to Angel’s office. There were times when it probably wasn’t a good idea for William and Angel to be so close, but the rest of the time it was a convenience no one wanted to do without. This was one of those times; her anger didn’t have a chance to cool before she encountered him.

           

Emmie didn’t even bother knocking. She just walked in, stopping just inside the doorway when she saw Gunn and Angel looking over a couple contracts. “Hey, Emmie,” Angel said, smiling. “Give me just a second.”

           

Gunn waved a greeting, and then pointed. “And sign there.” He watched as Angel put down his John Hancock, and nodded in satisfaction. “That should do it.” Gunn straightened, and looked over at Emmie, obviously about to say something, but the look on her face froze the words in his throat. Apparently, Angel had just caught it too, because his face went from happy to see her to worried to apprehensive in the space of a few seconds.

           

Gunn gathered up his files, and pointed at the door. “You know, I’ve got some things to take care of, and I’ve got Ty this afternoon, so I’ll just be going.” And then he excused himself, knowing a coming storm when he sensed one.

           

Emmie waited until he’d exited and shut the door behind him before saying anything. “Why?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me about Connor?”

           

If vampires could have paled, Angel would have. “How did you find out?”

           

“Oh, please, Angel,” Emmie said, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. “After what Ty said the other day, and then the prophecy that Wes has been working on? I’m surprised I didn’t catch on earlier. But to answer your question, it was an accident. I saw a file you probably didn’t want me to see.”

           

The big vampire stood and came around the desk. “Look, Emmie, no one knew. It wasn’t just you.”

           

“Bull shit.” Emmie’s voice was furious now, her face pale with anger, a stark contrast to her dark eyes and hair. “William knew, and I’d bet he’s known for a while.”

           

“William guessed,” Angel replied, a tinge of anger in his own voice now. “Look, Emmie, I get why you’re upset, but I had my reasons. Connor was—”

           

“Connor is your son!” Emmie cried angrily. “You had a son and you didn’t tell me!”

           

Angel stood toe to toe with her. “I’m a vampire,” he replied harshly. “I’m not going to tell you everything.”

           

Emmie nearly belted him. “That’s not the point, Angel,” she yelled. “The point is that even if you were human and you’d hidden something like this from me, I would have been angry. The point is that you kept this from me, and this is huge. How would you feel if I’d had a child and hadn’t told you?” Silence met her question, and Emmie had her answer. She turned away.

 

“You aren’t talking to me, Angel,” she said sadly. “You’re keeping things from me.” She clenched and unclenched her fists. “You know how important trust is to me, and you know why. I think we need some time apart.”

 

Angel froze, and then reached out to touch her arm. “No, Emmie. I’m sorry, I should have said something about it, but the time was never right. I wanted to tell you.”

 

She pulled away from him, and then turned and faced him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Not good enough, Angel. You know everything there is to know about me. You know about my past; we’ve talked about it. But you didn’t trust me, and that hurts a lot.” Emmie backed slowly out the door. “If you can’t talk to me, I don’t think we can do this relationship.”

 

Angel was left staring at the door, wondering how it was all slipping away from him.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy had glanced into Spike’s office and hadn’t seen him, and so had headed off towards her own office. He’d seemed pretty frazzled earlier. She’d half-hoped she could kidnap him and take him somewhere nice, where they could relax, especially since neither of them would have Ty until the evening. Those plans were disrupted both by his absence and by the sight of a teary Emmie coming out of Angel’s office.

 

Buffy immediately went to the younger woman. “Emmie? Are you alright?” The young Slayer shook her head miserably, and Buffy took her by the arm. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

 

They went to a small coffee shop near the office. Buffy was never comfortable having personal conversations in the office, if only because someone usually saw, and then it ended up as water cooler gossip. “What happened?” Buffy asked when they both had their drinks and had settled down at a small corner table.

 

Slowly, Emmie began to explain, twisting tendrils of hair nervously around her fingers as she spoke. Buffy felt a rush of sympathy for her. In some ways, Emmie was more of a younger sister than Dawn at this point. Dawn had done a lot of growing up that year they’d fought the First Evil, and when it was all over, Buffy had discovered that quite a bit of distance had sprung up between them. In time, they’d grown close again, but their relationship became more like friends than siblings.

 

On the other hand, with Emmie, the age difference was large enough that the girl pulled up her maternal instincts. Plus, there was no real baggage between the two of them, and Emmie was very much like a younger sister to Spike. Times like this, however, it became just a little strange to think about a girl, nearly ten years her junior, dating her ex-boyfriend.

 

When she had finished her story, relishing just a little the spilling of Angel’s secrets, Buffy sighed. So this was what Spike had been so twitchy about for the last few weeks. No wonder. “I don’t blame you for being angry,” Buffy admitted. “But, Emmie, this isn’t really something that Angel would probably have told anyone. I don’t really want to take his side, but I’m not sure I would have told anyone either if I were in his shoes.”

 

Emmie nodded unhappily. “I know. I really do. It’s not that I don’t understand why Angel kept it from me, it just hurts.”

 

Buffy clearly remembered finding out about Drusilla and how hurt and shocked she’d been to find out exactly what kind of a vampire Angelus had been. She really couldn’t blame the other woman for her anger. “What are you going to do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Emmie admitted. “I think I just need some time away from him. I need to figure out if I can deal with this.” She looked up at Buffy. “You know about my step-father, what he did to me. Trust is not something I can just not have in a relationship. It took so long just to get to a point—” Emmie broke off, not sure how much Buffy really wanted to hear. “Like I said, it isn’t that I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me. It’s that I need to be able to trust him, and right now, I’m not sure I can.”

 

~~~~~

 

Ty finished his math homework with a flourish and looked at Fred expectantly. “Done.”

 

Fred smiled at him, and picked up the paper, quickly glancing over the fractions problems, and then her smile broadened. “Good job, Ty,” she congratulated him. “You got every one right.”

 

The boy smiled triumphantly and wriggled with excitement. “Can I go now?”

 

Fred looked over at the clock and nodded. “Who’s got you now?” she asked.

 

“Uncle Gunn,” Ty replied promptly. “He said we’re going to work on hand-to-hand today.”

 

“All right,” Fred said, leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek even as Ty squirmed uncomfortably. “You’re outta here.”

 

Ty grinned and was out of the lab like a shot. He didn’t mind the math and science lessons with Fred; she always made them interesting. But his favorite times of the day were weapons practice. Angel and Wesley usually taught sword work; Angel was Budokan, Wesley was traditional fencing. Buffy and his Dad were hand-to-hand and acrobatics as was Emmie. But Gunn—Gunn taught street fighting, and his lessons were probably the most fun. The best times were when Gunn and his dad sparred and let him watch. At that point, the quips they traded were as much entertainment as the fighting itself.

 

Today looked to be no exception. Gunn was waiting for him, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt, about the only time he didn’t wear a suit anymore. Ty slipped off his shoes, and went to meet his uncle in the middle of the mats. “Hey, Little Man,” Gunn greeted him with a high five. “You ready?”

 

“Yeah.” Ty’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

 

“Good,” Gunn said, and then motioned to the stakes scattered around the room. “Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to get to those stakes. You’re fighting, and somebody knocks your weapon out of your hand, you got to get it back. So, that’s what we’re gonna work on today.” He waited for Ty’s nod of understanding. “No rules.”

 

Ty’s eyes widened. “No rules” meant anything goes. You do what you have to do, just like in a real fight. It also meant that if he made any stupid mistakes, Gunn was going to let him know. Not in a mean way, just in a way so that he wouldn’t forget the lesson very soon. He gulped and then nodded, glancing around the room to figure out where his weapons were.

 

“Let’s rumble,” Gunn said, smiling, and lunged.

 

Ty dove for his first stake. This was going to be fun.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike entered the lab, feeling a little more cheerful, if only because he’d been able to avoid Angel for the last few hours. As long as he didn’t actually _see_ him, he could pretend as though nothing had happened. Or, at least he could avoid all responsibility. Either way, he was happy. Right now, however, he had a different sort of responsibility, and not one he minded in the least.

 

“’lo, Fred,” he said as he spotted her behind a microscope.

 

She smiled brightly at him. “William! What are you doing down here?”

 

Spike shrugged and came to sit next to her on one of the stools. “Came to talk to you, pet,” he said easily.

 

She narrowed her eyes. “Is this a friendly chat, or a talk with a purpose?”

 

“You got me,” he admitted. “Came to talk to you about maternity leave.”

 

“Maternity leave?” With a frown she turned back to what she’d been studying. “If Wesley put you up to this, I’m not an invalid, William.”

 

Spike winced slightly. Wes had not put him up to it, but he had made more than a few comments about not liking the love of his life working so hard during her pregnancy. He himself could remember feeling much the same way during Erin’s last couple months. There was something about a pregnant woman that called out the protector in pretty much every male alive. “It wasn’t Wes,” he replied. “But you do need to be thinkin’ on it, Fred. Angel and I talked, and we’re both willing to keep your job for you no matter how long you decide you need to be out. Even if you want to take a few months off, that’s fine.”

 

Fred turned to look at her friend, who had nothing but concern on his face. And she unbent just enough to smile. “Just because I’m going to be a mom doesn’t mean I need to quit working.”

 

“No one’s sayin’ that, pet,” he replied. “But if _you_ decide you’re needin’ a bit more time, I want you to know you’ve got it. ‘s not about what everyone else thinks is best. It’s about what you want.” Spike hesitated, and then said very quietly. “Erin an’ I were lucky after Ty was born, ‘cause we could have him at work with us. And you’ll be able to do the same to a certain extent. But I know if that weren’t the case for Erin, she’d have wanted to stay home with Ty. Not sayin’ you will too, but just to let you know you might want the choice, an’ you’ve got it.”

 

Fred nodded slowly. She knew that Wesley was just worried about her at this point. He could be incredibly overprotective at times, but it was for a good reason. And it did feel good to know that she had the choice; she was well aware that not everyone did, one way or the other. “I’ll think about it,” she promised.

 

“An’ that’s all anyone can ask,” Spike replied, standing. He still had things to do, and as pleasant as spending time with Fred was, he needed to get back to work. “I should—” Spike broke off suddenly, a faint sound alerting him to the fact that something was very wrong. “Down!” he shouted, pulling Fred down, with his own body just a second behind her. It was a second too long as the explosion rocked the lab, sending flying glass his way. He could feel it hitting his back, even as he ducked behind the large table, covering Fred’s body with his own, praying that they would both make it out of there in one piece.


	5. Bringing Out the Dead

Spike stood shakily, adrenalin blocking out the pain he knew he’d feel later. His first thought was of Fred, still trapped beneath him, and he offered her a hand up, checking her for any damage. “You okay, pet?” he asked urgently.

 

Fred managed a short nod. “I think so,” she replied, putting one hand over her stomach protectively, fearfully. “Yes, I’m okay,” she reassured him in response to his intense look.

           

“Ty,” Spike said suddenly. Buffy was his next thought, but she was a Slayer, and much more likely to survive pretty much anything. Besides, he had a feeling that he would know if something had happened to her, and he was almost certain she was fine.

           

He might have headed out right then, but Fred put a restraining hand on his arm, her dark eyes glancing around the room at the debris. “What about the rest of them?”

           

With a sinking feeling, Spike realized that they had been among the few lucky ones there. Operating by instinct, he’d managed to get them both to shelter behind a heavy metal table, and fortunately they had been farther away from the blast than some of the others. There were bodies among the rubble, and not all of them were in one piece.

           

He was torn; Spike wanted to be selfish, to go look for his family, but his sense of duty prevented him. He choked on his worry, and then bent to help Fred with the survivors. There wasn’t much they could do, but it didn’t matter. An emergency crew was there within minutes. As soon as Spike was certain that someone had the situation under control, he grabbed one of the paramedics. “Have you heard about my son? Ty Smith?”

           

The man shook his head. “We just got told to come down here, sir,” he replied. “Best thing you can do now is get out of the way and wait for news.”

           

‘Yeah, right,’ Spike thought. As if that was going to happen. He took Fred’s arm solicitously, and then helped her out the door, trying to remember where Ty was supposed to be this time of day and who he would be with. It was probably weapons, and he thought—

 

“Fred, you know who had Ty for weapons today?”

 

“Gunn,” she said shortly, trying to concentrate on where she was putting her feet. “Oh, God,” she said suddenly. “Wes. He would have been in his office. I need to find him, William.”

 

Spike needed to find a number of people with a physical intensity that would not dim. “We’ll get you situated, and then I’ll see what I can do ‘bout locating everyone.” Ty was with Gunn, he reminded himself. And Gunn was more than capable of taking care of the both of them.

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley’s head shot up at the sound of the first explosion. There had been a time in the past when he probably would have hidden underneath his desk, but those days were long past. Instead of hiding, he quickly gathered up the notes and the translation, knowing what would be lost if something happened to it. Once he had his notes, he dashed out into the lobby and into chaos. There were employees streaming out the doors and paramedics and firefighters streaming in. He made it halfway across the expanse when a belated explosion echoed behind him, the concussion sending him sprawling.

           

Wes swallowed hard as he realized that if he’d delayed a few more seconds, there was no way he would have survived it. A paramedic came over to help him up and make sure he was intact. “Are you all right, sir?”

           

“I’m fine.” Wes grabbed the man’s arm before he could leave. “Can you tell me if you’ve heard anything about my girlfriend? She would have been down in the science labs most likely. Winifred Burkle?”

           

The paramedic certainly had other places to be and other things to do, but he radioed the other units in the building. “Gries? You down in the lab area?” There was a crackle, and then an affirmative. “You know anything about a woman? Winifred Burkle.”

           

Another burst of static, and Wesley could just make out the words. “Yeah. Head of the lab, right? She’s on her way up with some other guy, some VP is what they’re telling me.”

           

Wes heaved a sigh of relief, and patted the man on the shoulder in thanks. But his relief was short-lived as he realized that with what he knew about the prophecy, things could get very ugly unless both Ty and the other referred to in the text had survived. Since he wasn’t entirely sure about the other mentioned, he needed to find William’s son and make sure he was okay, otherwise they would lose the war before they’d fought the first battle.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Ty woke slowly, blinking away the dust that had gotten into his eyes. There was something heavy lying on top of him, and he was having a hard time moving. Whatever had happened had killed the lights, and the room was entirely dark. “Uncle Gunn?” he called out softly.

           

There was no reply, and it was then that Ty realized that the thing lying on top of him wasn’t hard, as you’d expect of debris from the building, but soft and yielding. A body. The boy let out a muffled yelp, and then bit it back, summoning the small light his Uncle Wes had taught him to make.

           

Gunn’s face was almost gray in the dim light, one side covered in blood. Ty looked around and banished the light with a word, concentrating on pulling himself out from under his uncle’s body. He could feel that the man was still breathing, but he knew that if he didn’t get help soon, it might end up being too late.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Wesley wove his way through the crush of people trying to get out, through the people going down the stairs, even as he tried to go up. Gunn and Ty would have been in the training room, and from what he could see, there were at least three bombs that had been set off, all localized. Later, perhaps, he would be able to analyze the pattern and the placement to give them a better idea of who or what had done this, but right now he just wanted to find Ty.

           

The hallway was empty, lit by the emergency lighting, with signs of devastation here as well. It seemed there was no escaping it, and he greatly feared that whatever blast had hit this particular floor might have killed the boy.

           

Gunn almost always used the third room on the right, and while the knob turned easily enough under his hand, the door itself was shut tight and would not budge. Wesley tried forcing it with his shoulder, ramming against the door as hard as he could, but it was no use. Obviously, some debris had blocked it from inside the room. “Ty! Gunn! Can you hear me?” He waited for an answer, and thought he might have heard something, but it was impossible to tell. The walls in this building were made to last, and to block sounds, for very good reasons.

           

His next option was the fireman’s axe that he’d seen in the glass case at the other end of the hall, and he ran to retrieve it. The blade bit deeply into the wood on his first swing, and he swung again, hacking through the door. He wished that Angel or William were close by to lend a little of their strength. Wesley wouldn’t have minded a Slayer either.

           

When he’d made a hole, he called through again. “Ty! Are you alright?”

           

“Uncle Wes?” The boy’s voice was incredulous. “Is that really you?”

           

“I’m right here,” the man assured him. “Where’s Gunn?”

           

He heard a muffled sob. “I don’t think he’s doing too good. I’m stuck under him, and he won’t wake up.”

           

“Hang in there, Titus.” Wes thought frantically. He needed equipment and more men, though he was loathe to leave the boy. “I have to get more help. Can you hang in there for a little while longer?”

           

There was a pause, and then a frightened, “Uh huh. Please hurry.”

           

Wesley ran.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Emmie studied the tops of her boots as she walked beside Buffy back towards the office. “What do you want to do?” the older Slayer asked softly.

           

“I don’t know,” she admitted, in an equally low voice. “I don’t want to end it, but I need some time away.”

           

Buffy nodded and looked around. “Why don’t you come and stay with us for a few days?” she suggested. “Spike won’t mind, and we have the extra bedroom.” They had replaced William’s apartment with a townhouse only a year before, thinking the extra room would come in handy for guests, especially around the holidays.

           

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Emmie asked gratefully. “I don’t want to impose.”

           

“Spike won’t care,” Buffy said decidedly. “You know he’d do anything for you. And I don’t mind. I know what it’s like to need to get away for a while. At least this will give you some distance and time to work things out. Or not,” she added.

           

The younger woman nodded and then frowned as she heard the sirens. “Those seem really close to Wolfram & Hart.”

           

Buffy watched as two fire trucks sped past them to join the crews already there or on their way. Whatever it was, it was big, and it was more than close to the office building. It _was_ the office building. “Spike,” she whispered, and then took off running, Emmie close at her heels. There were other people in there that she cared for, of course. Most of the people she considered family were there; but Spike was the one she thought of first. They had gone through too much for her not to fear losing him again.

           

The building itself was surrounded by rescue workers, cops and paramedics. Buffy and Emmie both managed to force their way through the growing crowds, but were stopped at the police line. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go in there,” the policeman said apologetically.

           

Buffy resisted the urge to punch him out and move past the body. It wouldn’t do anybody any good to get herself thrown in jail. “My family is in there. I need to get inside,” she insisted, knowing it was pointless to bring up the fact that she was a Slayer and nearly indestructible.

           

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, a little more firmly and with a touch of annoyance. “That’s impossible.”

           

Buffy might have gone with her first impulse and knocked him out, helped, of course, by Emmie, but a voice stopped her. “Buffy!”

           

She turned to see Dawn making her way towards her, followed closely by Connor. “Dawn, you’re okay.” She hugged her sister, and looked from one to the other. “What happened?”

           

“I don’t know,” Dawn said. “Spike told me to get Connor out of the office for a while because of some stuff that was going on. We just now got back.”

           

“Would this ‘stuff’ have anything to do with the fact that Connor happens to be Angel’s son?” Buffy asked, with a touch of wry humor, in spite of the situation.

           

“How did you know?” Connor asked.

           

“I found out by accident earlier today. Buffy and I left so I could calm down and resist the urge to stake him,” Emmie explained. At that point, everyone seemed to realize that they had a more than awkward situation on their hands, as Connor was actually older than his father’s girlfriend. It was a little strange, to say the least.

           

“We don’t have time for this now,” Buffy finally stated. “We need to get inside the building, and that stupid cop won’t let us by.”

           

Connor smiled. “Then it’s probably a good thing you’re with the director of Internal Security,” he pointed out. “I know a way in that wouldn’t even occur to them.”

           

“Someone should probably stay here in case the rest of them come outside,” Emmie stated.

           

Dawn sighed. “As the only non-Slayer, non-superhuman here, that should probably be me. I’ll let the rest of them know where you are if I see them before you do.”

           

Buffy smiled at her younger sister and gave her another brief hug. “We’ll be back as soon as we have some information,” she promised, and then she followed Connor and Emmie through the crowd and around the back, a little surprised when the young man led them to a manhole cover that wasn’t being watched.

           

He grinned when he saw her face. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

           

Somehow Buffy didn’t have any trouble believing him.

 

~~~~~ 

 

They could see that Wesley’s office had sustained a tremendous amount of damage as they moved past it and into the lobby. Fred let out a muffled whimper, and Spike grabbed her by both arms. “Listen to me, Fred,” he demanded. “I’m sure Wes is fine, and I promise that I’m going to find him, but I need you to head outside and see if you can’t find Dawn and Connor. Because he’s going to bloody well kill me if anythin’ happens to you.”

           

Spike was grateful that Fred wasn’t nearly as stubborn as Buffy. She had no problem accepting advice. It might have also helped that she wasn’t just thinking about herself, but also of their child. But once she was safely on her way, he could head up the stairs to where he knew his son would most likely be found. If he wasn’t there, Spike would find him.

           

He ran into Wesley on his way up the stairs, and he could tell from the other man’s wild eyes that there was something terribly wrong. “Ty?” he demanded urgently.

           

“He’s fine, William,” Wes reassured him. “But he’s trapped right now with Gunn. He seems to think that Charles is badly hurt. Is Fred—”

           

“Outside, and in one piece. Get the paramedics up here; I’ll do what I can to get them out.”

           

Spike had the door off its hinges in mere seconds. It took him a little longer to extricate Ty from under Gunn’s unconscious form. He didn’t want to hurt either of them, but Ty was patient, confident that his dad would manage to get them both out of there in one piece. By the time Wesley returned with the paramedics in tow, Spike had not only gotten his son out of the room and into the hallway, but he’d also moved most of the debris.

           

The paramedics wasted no time in getting Gunn onto a backboard, and then out onto a gurney. “Will he be alright?” Wesley demanded worriedly.

           

“It’s hard to say right now, sir,” one of the rescue workers said. “We need to get him to the hospital right away.”

           

“Which one?” Spike demanded.

           

“County General.” But the paramedics were already on their way to the stairs, wasting no time answering their questions in favor of getting the injured party the necessary medical attention. Wes and Spike followed at a slightly slower pace, Spike keeping a firm grip on Ty the entire way.

           

They ran into Connor, Buffy and Emmie out in the lobby, and it was there that they realized no one had seen Angel. “Damn him,” Emmie hissed, when Spike told her that he hadn’t seen the big vampire all day.

           

“Emmie.” Buffy voice had a warning note, though she knew that most of the younger woman’s anger was from worry.

           

“Someone should check his office,” Wesley stated. “But if he’s not there we won’t have time to search the building.”

           

“Well, it’s not going to be Spike,” Buffy stated. “You are going to the hospital. Someone is going to need to look at your back.”

           

Spike winced. Now that the adrenalin was wearing off, and she had called his attention to his injuries, he could feel the pain from the lacerations. “Yeah, and we can check on Gunn while we’re there.” He thought quickly, hating to split everyone up even as someone seemed to be out to get them. “Connor, you and Emmie go look for Angel. Watch each other’s backs. Wesley’s right, if he’s not there in his office, get yourselves out of the building and head over to my place. We’ll have everybody meet up there. Wesley, you’d better take Dawn and Fred with you. Get what you need research-wise from your place first. Buffy and I will meet you as soon as we get done at the hospital.”

           

“What if we don’t find Angel?” Connor asked.

           

“Call his cell phone,” Wesley suggested. “I believe Angel has gotten the hang of using his voice mail at this point. Besides, if he is alright, he’ll probably call one of us as soon as he can. I’m sure he’ll find us.”

           

“Can I go with you, Dad?” Ty asked quietly, his face pale with strain and smudged with dirt.

           

Spike sighed. He didn’t want to let the boy out of his sight, but the hospital wasn’t any place for his son. “I’m sorry, luv, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. I want you to go with your Uncle Wes, alright?”

           

Ty nodded, disappointed, and Spike groaned as he remembered that Lorne was out of town, and probably had no idea what was going on. “Bloody hell. Wes, you’d better call Lorne as soon as you get a chance. If he sees this on the news before one of us reaches him, he’ll probably flip.”

           

Wesley nodded. “We’ll see you in a bit, William.” He put a comforting hand on Ty’s shoulder as he led him out of the building, followed closely by Buffy and Spike. Meanwhile Connor and Emmie headed off in search of their vampire boss.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Twenty two stitches later, Spike had a very sore back and a very short temper. “Bloody hell,” he grumbled, as they made their way towards the ICU to check on Gunn’s status. “There are times I definitely miss bein’ a vampire.”

           

Buffy reached out and twined her fingers with his, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Well, look at the bright side. You’re going to be taking sponge baths for a week since you can’t get those stitches wet.”

           

“And how is that the bright side?” he demanded. And then the light dawned as he saw the lascivious look she gave him. “Never mind, that is the bright side,” he agreed. “Assumin’ we even find the time for that,” Spike added, a little more quietly.

           

“We’re going to make it,” Buffy said fiercely. Watching the doctor put the stitches in the two long furrows the flying glass had made reminded her of how fragile he was, how quickly it could all end. They hadn’t had a close call in a very long time; the reduced slaying had lulled her into a false sense of security, making her believe that they might yet live forever. Today’s little explosion had been a wake-up call. She suddenly knew that if they did get out of this next apocalypse in one piece, she wanted to take Spike up on his offer of marriage and a couple of kids of their own. They did not have all the time in the world, regardless of what she would like to believe.

           

He gave her a reassuring smile, thinking about the same thing she was. They might indeed have little time left. Remembering the small box hidden away in one of his drawers. “That we will.” But when they asked the ICU nurse on duty about Gunn’s status, they realized that he very well might not.

           

“There was a lot of internal bleeding,” the nurse explained apologetically. “And his head injury was a serious one. He might still wake up, but…” She trailed off, and both Buffy and Spike knew what she was not saying. Gunn might wake up, and then again, he might not.

           

“What are his chances?” Spike asked hoarsely.

           

“About 50/50,” the nurse replied. “But if he doesn’t wake up in the next couple days, the chances of recovery are much slimmer. You should both go home and get some rest. We’ll call you if anything changes.”

           

Buffy and Spike both nodded. Someone should stay with him, but they had an apocalypse to worry about, along with a missing vampire. They needed to figure out what was going on, who was behind the attack, and that couldn’t be done by staying at Gunn’s bedside, as satisfying as that might be emotionally.

           

They walked back to the car slowly, still holding hands, neither of them willing to let go.

           

“What are we going to do next?” Buffy asked him, suddenly looking anxious. It had been ten years since her last major apocalypse, and she felt as though she was out of practice.

           

Spike smiled at her, trying to project a sense of strength that he didn’t feel. “What we always do, Buffy-luv. We’re going to save the world.”


	6. Fathers

Angel drifted through the tunnels like a wraith, making no sound. He felt like a ghost in his own life now, as though none of it belonged to him anymore. He had made another life for himself, a life in which he had never had a child, where he had a wonderful girlfriend, a purpose, a family. He had something resembling a son in Ty that his errant childe, William, had shared with him.

 

But to do that, in order to go on with his life, he’d had to pack away all memories of Connor, of the baby he had been, of the young man he had become. And now, ten years after he’d gained—and lost—his son, after he had given him up, Connor had returned. It seemed both dream come true, and nightmare.

 

Angel had left the office soon after Emmie had stormed out. He rarely used the tunnels anymore; there was no need when you had magic glass in cars and windows. But he found that they helped him to think, to remember who he had been before he had become the head of the L.A. branch of Wolfram & Hart. Who he had been before Connor. Because that year and a half had broken him more surely than any trip to hell ever could.

 

Here, in the tunnels, however, he had come to the conclusion that William had been right. He should have been honest with Emmie from the beginning, whatever the personal cost to himself at the time. He should have opened up to Wesley when the prophecy had first come up and it looked as though Connor would play a role in this new apocalypse. Instead, he had withdrawn, and now he had jeopardized everything.

 

Sliding off the manhole cover in the parking garage, he noticed the heavy smell of smoke. Angel frowned; it wasn’t cigarette smoke, but the kind that came after an explosion, laced with dust. He hurried to the building’s entrance and almost immediately ran into a policeman in Kevlar. “Freeze!” the man called, reaching for his gun.

 

Angel’s hands went up into the air immediately. “Hold on there,” he cautioned. The bullets wouldn’t exactly kill him, but getting shot hurt like hell. “My name is Angel. I’m the CEO of this company.”

 

The cop looked uncertain. “You got some ID?”

 

Carefully, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. It had taken him a long time to get used to carrying identification; as a member of the undead, it wasn’t necessary, strictly speaking. But it came in handy when you were trying to pass as human, and during times when police officers had their guns pointed directly at you. He watched as the officer checked out his driver’s license, and then breathed a sigh of relief as the man relaxed and handed it back to him.

 

“You gave me quite a scare, sir,” he admitted frankly. “We thought we had cleared out this building a couple hours ago.”

 

“I came in through the parking garage. What happened here?”

 

The officer shrugged. “It looks like someone set off a series of explosions. We’re still trying to determine if more bombs were set and haven’t gone off yet.”

           

“Was anyone killed?” Angel asked anxiously. He had no idea who was supposed to be here today. Lorne, of course, had been out of the office on business, but the others—

           

The cop looked sympathetic. “Eleven dead, five critically wounded. Dozens more hurt. I think most of the critical cases got taken to County.”

           

“Do you have a list?”

           

“The commander downstairs does. I’ll take you to him.”

           

Angel followed the man through the debris. He hadn’t wanted to be disturbed, so he’d left his cell phone in his office. William was always telling him that he should carry it at all times in case of an emergency; apparently he’d been right about that too. It was a trend that was becoming just a bit galling. “Commander? This is Mr. Angel. He wanted to see the list.”

           

It took some persuasion, since many of the family members hadn’t been notified yet, but Angel could be quite persuasive when he wanted to be. The commander assured him that he’d been lucky; a lot more people could have been killed. Angel wasn’t sure eleven dead could ever conceivably be called lucky.

           

But he was relieved as he looked over the list of fatalities. Most he hadn’t known, or he was only able to recognize their names, without being able to recall their faces. It was the name at the top of the critical list that stunned him though, and sent him flying through the front doors.

 

~~~~~ 

 

“Hey.” Angel stood next to the bed that held Gunn’s still form. “It looks like we’ve got something big on the way.” There was no answer, not that he expected one. “I wish you were going to be fighting with us. I don’t think there’s anyone else I trust to watch my back like you.”

           

There was Wesley and Spike, he knew. And Connor. But he and Gunn had always fought well together, something about Gunn’s unshakeable loyalty once given. “I know we haven’t seen a lot of each other lately. Sometimes I miss the old days, when it was just us in the Hyperion and we knew Wolfram & Hart was evil.” He missed the days when things were simple, before Connor, before Wesley’s betrayal, before Cordy’s death.

           

“Hang in there, Charles,” he murmured.

           

“You can’t be in here.”

           

Angel turned to face the nurse. “Excuse me?”

           

“Only family are allowed in here, and only during visiting hours.” She glared at him sternly.

           

“I am family,” he protested. At her skeptical look, he insisted. “Look in the chart. My name is Angel. I should be listed as one of his next of kin.”

           

She unbent enough to look sympathetic. “Even so, Mr. Angel, it’s past visiting hours. You really should come back tomorrow.”

           

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” Angel turned to go, and then looked back at her again. “How—Is he going to be okay?”

           

“The doctor thinks he has a chance at a full recovery. Tonight is the most critical time, but if he makes it, and if he wakes up in the next few days, there’s a possibility.”

           

Angel left then and went to find a pay phone, depositing a couple of quarters and dialing the familiar number. “’lo.”

           

“It’s me,” he said.

           

“Where are you?”

           

“At the hospital. I had to see Gunn as soon as I found out.”

           

Spike sighed on the other end. “He saved Ty, kept him from bein’ crushed by the fallin’ debris. You okay?”

           

“I was in the tunnels. I needed to think.”

           

Spike gave a little growl. “Figures. Your office got hit too. Windows were busted out. When Emmie and Connor couldn’t find you, well, we were hoping for the best.”

           

“I’m fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can get cleaned up,” Angel said, leaning his forehead against the wall.

           

“We’ve still got a change of clothes over here for you,” Spike replied. “You can get cleaned up here. Wes’s been workin’ on that prophecy non-stop, and it looks like we’re finally getting somewhere.”

           

“Does everyone know?” Angel asked quietly, fearing the answer.

           

There was a pause, and then Spike said, “They know. And no one’s ready to stake you on sight yet. We’ll see you in a bit.”

 

~~~~~ 

 

Angel didn’t bother knocking when he came in, knowing he was expected. He wasn’t surprised at the reception he got; there was complete silence as he entered the living room, where everyone was sitting. Connor wouldn’t look at him, the others shifted uncomfortably, and glanced from him to Connor and back again. Wesley stood and walked out of the room.

           

Emmie stood up from where she’d been sitting on the couch and stalked over to him, slapping him on the chest. Considering Slayer strength, it was not an inconsiderable blow. “Ow.”

           

She glared at him. “We were worried. You couldn’t have called earlier?”

           

“I left my cell phone in my office,” he explained, a trifle sheepishly.

           

Emmie looked at him for a long moment, and he could see both anger and forgiveness in her eyes. Forgiveness for which he had been prepared to plead. “I love you,” she said quietly. “But I’m still pissed off.”

           

“I know. I’m sorry. I was stupid, and I should have told you a long time ago,” he admitted.

           

Her expression softened. “As long as you’ve figured that out. Now, go get cleaned up. You need it.” She smiled at him then, and he looked over at Spike who was motioning him to follow.

           

Angel went back into the master bedroom with him, and watched as Spike pulled out some clothes he’d left the last time he’d needed to crash there. It didn’t happen very often, but occasionally he and Spike would go out hunting and he’d need to clean up before heading to the office. The younger man handed him the clothing and a towel. “We’ve got blood in the fridge for when you get out,” he said quietly. “Waitin’ on the delivery boy right now. Chinese tonight. Looks like we’ll be pullin’ an all-nighter, so we’ve got the coffee goin’ too.”

           

“Is he alright?”

           

“Who?”

           

“Connor.” Angel’s voice was flat.

           

Spike nodded slowly. “You’ll have to talk to him yourself. Sent him out with Dawn earlier today, which was why he wasn’t in the building. I think she helped.”

           

“And Wesley?”

           

The ex-vampire shook his head. “Don’t know, Angelus. He’s takin’ the whole thing pretty hard, blamin’ himself, hardly able to believe that he took Connor. I think Wes’s worried that he’s goin’ to screw this prophecy up too, an’ he was worried ‘bout that before.” Spike sighed and then looked at his boss. “I’m goin’ to say this once, and once only, Angel. Things are getting hot, an’ we need everybody on board. I told you before to tell everyone, and you didn’t, an’ look where we are now. You want to make this come out right, you’re gonna have to talk to them, all of them.” Spike raised an eyebrow and gave him a sardonic smile. “They may have forgotten it a bit in the middle of all this, but you’re still their leader, Angel. You’re the boss. Your job to take the reins now.”

           

Angel shook his head. “You or Wesley do a better job leading than I do sometimes, William,” he confessed.

           

“Well, long as you remember that you’re not indispensable, we’ll be alright.” Spike gave him a cheeky grin and left the vampire to his shower.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Fred wandered out to the back porch to find Wesley. Sometimes he could brood just as well as Angel; it was really pretty impressive. She sat down next to him on the edge of the small patio. “Hey.”

           

He didn’t respond, and she put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It was a long time ago, Wesley.”

           

“Perhaps.” There was a self-deprecating smile on his face. “It’s no wonder Angel began brooding when he discovered I was to have a child. It must be like rubbing salt in a wound.” He fingered the scar on his neck reflexively.

           

“In a way, it does explain a lot,” Fred murmured. “The scar, and other things.” There were things that were unexplained, that they had never questioned before. Wesley’s scar was one thing, and they all remembered that there had been a falling out, but no one could remember the cause of either. They knew that Cordy had died, or as good as, but the details were sketchy. The surprise, or the biggest one, was that now they knew the explanation, they could see _where_ things got a little fuzzy, but no one had ever noticed it before.

           

“Other things, yes,” Wesley said. “Like fearing I would bollocks this prophecy up as well. I don’t understand how William can trust me, how Angel can trust me with this, knowing what I’ve done. I would never have believed that I would betray him.”

           

“You didn’t betray him.” Spike’s voice came from behind them. He’d decided to take matters into his own hands. Angel wasn’t always very perceptive when it came to things like this, and he could very easily screw it up. This was going to take a more gentle touch.

           

Wesley turned to look at him. “How can you say that?”

           

“You’re the one to make the hard decisions, Wes,” Spike replied. “Tell me. If you knew Ty was in danger staying with me, and I couldn’t give him up, what would you do?”

           

“William—” Wesley protested.

           

“I mean it,” Spike insisted. “If you knew Ty’s survival depended on him leaving, and I couldn’t make the decision, what would you do?” Wesley’s prolonged silence was enough of an answer. “That’s why we trust you, Wesley. Because you care enough to do the hard thing and make the right decision.”

           

“It’s not that simple,” Wesley said.

           

“Yes, it is.” Angel stepped out onto the patio. “I didn’t understand then, but I do now. We trust you because we know you’ll do the right thing, even if it means sacrifice for yourself. You took Connor to save him, knowing I wouldn’t understand. But I get it now.”

           

Fred slipped her hand into Wesley’s. “It’s gonna be okay, Wes. You’ll translate the prophecy and we’ll fix it, just like we always do.”

           

Angel looked into Wes’s eyes, and said as firmly as he could, “I trust you, Wes. I’m happy for you and Fred. You both deserve it.”

           

Fred smiled at the big vampire. “Thanks, Angel.”

           

Wesley almost managed a smile, and nodded a silent thanks. He was uncertain that he did indeed deserve it.

 

~~~~~ 

 

They were all gathered in the living room, eating Chinese take-out and listening while Wesley explained the prophecy. There had been no time for Angel to speak with Connor alone, and he couldn’t help casting continuous glances at his son. It was still unbelievable that Connor was here, with him.

           

“The prophecy is quite specific, and distantly related to the Shanshu,” Wesley said. “It mentions four individuals, all male. Two are brothers and two are their sons.”

           

“You’re thinkin’ that means Angel and me for the brothers then, mate.” Spike speared a shrimp on the end of his chopstick and frowned thoughtfully. “We’re not exactly _brothers_ though.”

           

“No, you’re not,” Wes admitted. “But brothers in this case refers not to blood, but to a certain similarity of circumstance. The translation suggests connection by history, a camaraderie, not necessarily by the traditional family ties. You both are, or were, souled vampires. Besides, the names they give are the Phoenix and the Champion. The meanings are obvious.”

           

Spike huffed a little. “Hate to think of it that way, but you’re right. There’s over a hundred years of history between the two of us.” He shot Angel an ironic look and quoted, “’We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.’”

           

A small smile tilted Angel’s lips as he finished the line “’For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother, be he ne’er so lowly.’”

           

“Watch who you’re callin’ ‘lowly,’ mate,” Spike warned him with a smile.

           

“What about their sons?” Connor asked. “What is it supposed to say about me?”

           

Wesley shot the younger man a deceptively mild look. “If you’ll all let me continue, I was getting to that.” Connor gave him a mumbled apology. “Both sons are mentioned multiple times, under multiple names. The son of the Phoenix is called, alternately, the Seer and the Chosen. The son of the Champion is called both Champion of the Chosen and the Destroyer. It is said that the two together will bring great destruction on the forces of evil, thus tipping the balance in favor of good.”

           

Buffy raised a hesitant hand. “But isn’t balance supposed to be a good thing?” she asked. “I thought things weren’t supposed to be unbalance-y.”

           

Wesley frowned. “Yes, usually one would think that would be the case, but typically one side or the other is winning. Not by much, grant you, but there seems to be a continuum to the balance. Fall too far at one end or the other, and someone comes along to change it.”

           

“Wouldn’t all the extra Slayers have tipped the balance though?” Dawn asked thoughtfully. “When we activated all the Slayers ten years ago, it was supposed to help keep something like this from happening again, prevent another apocalypse.”

           

“In this dimension,” Wesley agreed. “Look at it this way. There are multiple dimensions, all in different states of flux. Some are more good than bad, some more bad than good, but overall there is equality. Just because there are more Slayers here does not mean that the balance has been met, and indeed, very few of those girls are actually acting as Slayers. Most are at least attempting to live as normally as possible. A few more demon hunters do not make a lot of difference in the long run, not when Evil has found other places to go. No, what the prophecy proposes is that Ty and Connor are destined to defeat a larger evil, one that crosses dimensional boundaries” He hesitated, and then continued less confidently. “I do not know this for certain, but I believe that evil to be connected somehow to Wolfram & Hart, possibly to the Senior Partners.”

           

“Not the Senior Partners themselves?” Fred asked.

           

“I don’t know that.”

           

“How do we know for sure that Ty was the target?” Angel objected. “It might have been aimed at William or me.”

           

“Not with the dispersion of the bombs,” Connor said quietly. “They were placed specifically, possibly in order to injure as few of their own people as possible. Wesley’s office, the lab, the practice rooms, your office and William’s office are all places frequented by Ty. My office was hit too, but we think I was a secondary target. It’s more important that they get Ty in the long run. My guess is that they were after him all along.”

           

There was a long silence, and then Emmie suddenly let out a low whistle. “Are you saying this has been their plan from the beginning? That they gave Wolfram & Hart to Angel because they knew eventually they’d need to get their hands on Ty and Connor?”

           

Wesley smiled a little, wondering that Emmie had come to the conclusion so quickly. He probably shouldn’t be that surprised though. Emmie was quite intelligent, but like Buffy, she came across as more of a “doer” than a “thinker.” “It is possible,” he replied.

           

“No,” Angel objected. “How could they have any idea? About Ty and William at least?”

           

“When did they offer the firm to you?” Wesley asked, the ideas that had been rolling around in his head for weeks finally beginning to spill out. “It wasn’t until after William got his soul. Up until that point they had been working very hard to defeat you, or at least turn you to the dark side. But afterwards, it was no longer certain that you were the souled vampire in the prophecy, and they could afford to wait. They knew they’d need Connor, and more than that even, they knew they’d need Ty. William was connected to you; it was a reasonable assumption that you would run into one another again, especially as your connection is foretold. And after that, they needed to be sure. It is possible that your paternity test, proving Titus William’s son by blood, set off the alarm bells they needed. From there, all that was required was putting Connor into play, easily enough done by sending him an anonymous letter detailing the job opening, for which he was eminently qualified.”

           

“So what you’re saying is the evil Senior Partners arranged for all of this?” Buffy asked, alarm shading her voice.

           

Wesley shook his head. “I don’t believe so, at least not all of it. Events are coming to a head, perhaps as they should, perhaps earlier than we might have hoped, but I believe the Powers to have something to do with this too.”

           

“Then we’re caught between a rock and a hard place,” Spike said with a touch of wry humor. He probably would have been pacing, except that Buffy was playing with the hair on the back of his neck, and he was in no mood to move. He stole a glance over at his son, who was sitting, listening wide-eyed to the conversation. Spike should have sent him to bed long before, but he had hesitated. This was partially about Ty, after all. In many ways it would be unfair to cut him out of the conversation. He distinctly remembered a curious young girl who had gone off on her own, only to discover she was the mystical Key in the worst manner possible. Leaving people out of the loop was not always a good idea.

           

“Something like that,” Wesley admitted. “The Powers will, of course, desire to keep Ty and Connor safe—”

           

“Fat lot of good that’s done us so far,” Spike grumbled.

           

“—and the Senior Partners will probably continue to come after us.”

           

“Unless we go after them ourselves,” Angel rumbled. “Is it possible?”

           

“I don’t know,” Wesley admitted. “I hadn’t gotten that far in my investigations. There is one other thing I think you should all know, however.”

           

“What’s that?” Angel asked warily.

           

“The Shanshu prophecy may not have referred exclusively to William.” There was a dead silence. “From all my reading, the Shanshu refers to the restoration of humanity to a souled vampire who is redeemed by his role in an apocalypse. While we thought that perhaps William was the one referred to, everything I have read indicates that it’s possible to have a dual fulfillment.”

 

“You mean—” Angel was staring at him in disbelief.

           

“Yes,” Wesley said gently. “When we first discovered the prophecy, there were no other souled vampires in existence. You were the only one the prophecy could possibly refer to. But once William received his soul, that was no longer the case. I cannot be certain, of course, but it is possible that you might yet get your reward, Angel.”

           

Angel’s eyes were alight with hope for a few short moments, and then he shook his head as though clearing it. “No,” he said firmly. “I was never counting on the Shanshu, at least not for long. There’s no reason to start now. We’ll keep going like we were, like we’ve always done. But now we have to decide on our next move. If something within Wolfram & Hart is after us, we can’t go back there, not until we get some kind of a handle on things. Any ideas, people?”

 

~~~~~ 

 

Spike looked over at his son, who was trying desperately to follow the discussion and stay awake. It was definitely a losing battle. It was after midnight, and the poor kid had already been through a lot. He touched Buffy’s knee. “I should get Ty to bed, luv,” he murmured.

           

Buffy looked over at him and gave the boy a fond smile. “I’ll take care of it. You’re better at this kind of thing than I am anyway. You know me. Point me in the direction of what needs killing and I’ll do it.”

           

“You’re a bit more than that, pet,” he replied, but he let her rise and go to his son. She was right about one thing; he didn’t want to miss a moment of this discussion, not when Ty’s life could depend on it.

           

Buffy, for her part, was slightly surprised at Ty’s willing acquiescence. He could be as stubborn as his father at times. “I wish I could go to bed too,” she confided, as she followed him up the stairs to his bedroom.

           

“I’m a little tired,” he admitted. Buffy was quiet as he washed his face and brushed his teeth, and then got into his pajamas. She more than half-suspected that he didn’t really want anyone to tuck him in at night, and only humored them because he knew it made his father feel better. “Can I ask you a question?”

           

“Shoot,” she replied, sitting down on the edge of his bed and smoothing back his hair. He was so much like Spike it was scary sometimes. There were pieces that she suspected were very much his mother, but his blue eyes and charming grin were all from his father’s side of the gene pool.

           

“Are you and Dad gonna get married?”

           

Buffy blinked. Her first reaction was to tell him not to worry about it, but she knew that wouldn’t suffice. Ty was not only intelligent, he was also very mature for his age, and he wouldn’t like that answer. “We’ve talked about it,” she admitted. “I think we probably will someday, but I can’t tell you when. Why?”

           

“I was just wondering,” he said. “It’s just—do you think my mom would be mad if I called _you_ mom? It’s just that you kind of are, and I don’t remember her so good, ‘cause I was just a kid when she died. If you and Dad were married, then I could, but—”

           

Buffy was taken aback, but honored beyond words. This was not something she had ever expected from him. “Ty, I’m honored,” she replied, choosing her words carefully. “I didn’t know your mom, so I can’t tell you for sure if she would mind or not. But if I were her, what I would want most would be for you to be happy. And if it makes you happy to call me mom, then that would be more than fine.”

           

“You’ll stick around?” he whispered.

           

“Forever, if I can manage it,” she whispered back. “And I am really good at managing things.”

           

His wiry boy’s arms twined themselves around her neck. “Love you.”

           

“Oh, Ty,” she murmured. “I love you too.”

 

~~~~~ 

 

Everyone was bedded down for the night. Spike thought that Angel would probably try to talk to Connor alone, as he should, but that was not his concern for now. For now, all he was thinking about was Buffy and savoring every second he could get with her. That was the problem with having gone through as many apocalypses as they had. They knew the stakes better than anyone, better than a green Slayer facing her first vampire, for sure. They had both watched the other die, and had no desire to see a repeat.

           

Wesley and Fred had gotten the guest room, while the others were spread out on the floors and couch. Tomorrow night they would have to find a better solution, but they had all thought it best to stick together for the present. Besides, tomorrow would come all too soon.

           

Spike glanced up as Buffy came into their bedroom from the bathroom. “Hey,” she said softly, brushing her long hair behind her ears. “Whatcha thinking?”

           

“Of you,” he replied, smiling. How he loved to watch her move.

           

She smiled in return and then glanced away. “Ty asked me when we were going to get married tonight.”

           

He pursed his lips. “Yeah? And what did you say?”

           

“I told him we probably would and that we’d talked about it. He wanted to know because he wanted to be able to call me ‘mom.’” Buffy fiddled with her hands nervously. “I told him I didn’t mind, and that I didn’t think Erin would have either.”

           

Spike smiled reflectively. “She wouldn’t have,” he assured her. “’Bout the most generous woman I’ve ever known, really. Told me before she died not to hold back from fallin’ in love again, that she wanted me to be happy. She’d have wanted the same for Ty, too.”

           

“That’s what I said,” she replied.

           

It was his turn to stand, a little nervous. It was bad timing; he knew that. He should wait until they weren’t looking at another apocalypse on the horizon. But he didn’t want to wait, he couldn’t. “Buffy, luv, I know this isn’t the best time, but we’ve talked about it, so I know you won’t think it’s just because we’re runnin’ into imminent danger or anything.” Spike dug through his drawer and found the box just where he’d left it. “I’ve been waitin’ to find the right moment, but things just keep comin’ up, an’ I wanted you to hear this before, you know?”

           

Buffy wasn’t quite sure she did, but she nodded anyway.

           

“Anyway, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, but—”

           

“Spike, spit it out,” she ordered gently, thinking she knew where this was going.

           

He hesitated, and then held out the black velvet box. “Buffy, will you marry me?”

           

Buffy looked from the ring, a large diamond solitaire, back to her lover, who was staring at her with just a touch of apprehension. Her eyes started to twinkle. “Oh, Spike, it’s just so sudden. I don’t know what to say.”

           

Comprehension dawned as he remembered the last proposal he’d made to her. “Say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth.”

           

And then, while there was still a great deal of humor in her eyes, it gentled into a deep, glowing love. “Spike, of course it’s yes.”

           

“You mean it, Buffy?” His voice was hoarse with anticipation.

           

She reached out and touched his cheek and then let him slip the ring on her finger. “Always, William. I’m always yours.”

 

Neither of them got much sleep that night.


	7. Sons

Ty sat cross-legged with the sheets tented over him, a flashlight in hand. He was peering intently at the thick tome in front of him, one he’d made certain to grab while everyone was eating and listening to Wesley talk about the prophecy.

           

He wasn’t stupid. Ty knew very well what his father’s decision would be. The adults had talked long and hard before he went to bed about the merits of fighting vs. running. If Ty knew his dad, they would run. Not that William was a coward, far from it. But when it came to his son, the ex-vampire was unwilling to allow any harm to come to him, and in this case it would involve a retreat.

 

Hence, the book.

 

One person had already been badly hurt, possibly even killed to protect him, and Ty didn’t want to see that happen again. When Dawn had asked if there was any way to get in touch with the Powers, and Angel had mentioned the Conduit, Ty thought he had the answer. All he had to do was to find the Conduit himself. After all, he was the one the prophecy talked about, he was the Chosen, so he should be the one to talk to Them. If he could talk to Them, maybe he could prevent anyone else from getting hurt.

 

Angel had talked about needing to wait for Lorne, and reading the text, Ty could see why. He didn’t have the skills to locate the Conduit, which meant he’d have to convince his dad to let him go in and talk to the Powers on his own, which wasn’t going to happen any time this century. His dad was such an utter worrywart.

 

He had to try though, Ty decided, flipping off the flashlight and putting the book down beside the bed. His worst fear was that everyone would be so busy protecting him, they’d all get killed themselves. They’d leave, just like his mom had. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

 

~~~~~

 

Angel stepped hesitantly into the dimly lit kitchen. It was about the only room in the house that didn’t have a body draped over it. Dawn had taken the couch, and Emmie was lying next to her. Angel himself wasn’t tired. It was night, after all, and he was a vampire. And Connor was awake. He couldn’t possibly sleep.

 

“Hey.”

 

Connor looked over his shoulder at him from where he stood at the sink, obviously getting a glass of water for himself. “Hi.”

 

The two men stood in silence, and Angel thought that this “first” meeting, while less violent than their last, was hardly less awkward. “Look, Connor—”

 

“It’s true? All of it?” Connor asked, cutting him off.

 

Angel wasn’t sure how to reply. He’d had a hard enough time accepting it when Darla had first showed up pregnant. “Yeah, it’s true. Do you—do you have any questions? I’d like to tell you whatever you want to know.”

 

The younger man shook his head. “No. I mean, I guess just one.” Connor turned and faced his father fully for the first time since William had told him the truth. “Why? Why did you give me up? Why did you take my memories and give me all these fake ones?”

 

If Angel were to be completely honest with himself, and everybody else, he would have to admit that he never expected to have to answer those questions. He had believed that he would never see Connor again, that he would keep his secret until he was dust. Angel had never prepared himself to answer for the choices he’d made. “You were broken,” he finally said, and then motioned out to the back patio, not wanting to wake Emmie and Dawn.

 

Once they were outside, he began again. “A man named Holtz raised you. William told you about that?” At Connor’s nod, he continued. “Holtz wanted revenge for what I’d done to him, and to be fair, he had good reason. But he raised you to hate me, to believe that I was nothing but evil, even after he knew differently. And then he arranged for his own death, knowing you’d believe that I’d killed him. After that, people lied to you and tricked you, one after another, people you’d trusted.”

 

Angel paused. Telling this tale was harder than he thought it would be. “In the end, you didn’t know what or who to believe. You couldn’t trust me, not after what you’d been told by the man you called your father. Everything else you’d believed in turned out to be an illusion, and it was gone. You were broken, and I couldn’t fix you.”

 

“So you erased me.” Angel could hear the bitterness in his son’s voice.

 

“No!” Angel stared at him. “When Wolfram & Hart offered me the L.A. branch, I wasn’t going to take it, but then you—you needed help. I wanted to give you what I hadn’t been able to before. I couldn’t turn back time and prevent the whole thing from happening, but I could give you a fresh start. But to do that, I had to give you up. I didn’t have a choice.”

 

“You had a choice,” Connor said quietly. “But this is the one you made.”

 

Angel looked away, but he knew Connor was right. “Yeah. This is the one I made.”

 

“So now I find out my entire life was a lie. You know, it was funny, but right after I graduated from high school, I started having these abilities. I could hear things, do things, no one else could. I didn’t understand it. I thought I was some kind of freak. Turns out that I was.”

 

“You’re not a freak, Connor,” Angel said fiercely, grabbing the smaller man by the shoulders and staring him in the eyes. “You’re my son.”

 

Connor looked at him. “I don’t know you.”

 

“I know.” Angel was desperate for anything, any hope he might grasp that someday he and Connor could be friends, if not actually father and son. “But you could, if you wanted to. I made my choice, but I made it because I loved you and I didn’t see any other options.”

 

Connor looked away. “Dawn told me today about finding out she wasn’t really who she thought she was. She said it made her feel like she wasn’t real, but there were people around her that made her memories solid.” He sighed. “I had two real years with my parents before they died, and the people I remember from those two years are the same people I remember growing up. And now I have a chance to find out who I really am. I had questions, and you have answers. I’m in this now, by my choice.”

 

Angel nodded slowly, and then held out a hand. “I know you might never feel like I’m your father,” he acknowledged. “But I’d like to try to be your friend, if I can.”

 

Connor stared at the offered hand, and then took it. “I think I’d like that too.”

 

~~~~~

 

Lorne shifted his bags from one hand to the other to knock on the door. Spike answered it dressed in a pair of jeans and nothing else, his platinum hair still wet from the shower. He gave Lorne a relieved smile. “Lorne. Good to see you, mate.”

 

“You’re telling me, Sweetcheeks,” Lorne replied, following Spike inside. “I can’t tell you how relieved I was to get Wesley’s call yesterday. The thing about the office was all over the media.” The green demon lowered his voice to a whisper. “Any word on Gunn?”

 

Spike nodded grimly. “I just got off the phone with the hospital. He’s still unconscious, and it isn’t lookin’ good. Somethin’ about more internal bleeding they’re havin’ trouble stopping.”

 

“And how’s the little nipper?” Lorne asked, referring to Ty. He really did like the kid.

 

“Holdin’ up,” Spike replied. “He’s been through so much, ‘s not right.”

 

Lorne put a comforting hand on Spike’s shoulder. “Ty’s strong, William. He’s got your strength.”

 

Spike shook his head. “He’s got his mum’s strength. Come on. Everybody’s in the kitchen. We’ve been waitin’ for you to make the final plans.”

 

“Why do I not like the sound of that?” Lorne asked rhetorically.

 

Everyone was up and moving around, an early start to the day being mandatory when facing an apocalypse. “Lorne,” Angel said, greeting the demon with a smile. “Good to see you.”

 

“You know, when everyone starts to say that, I start believing you want something from me.” Lorne eyed the people scattered around the kitchen. “I’m not sure I like this, people.”

 

“Relax, Lorne,” Dawn said, giving him a sweet little smile. “We were just waiting for the whole team.”

 

“Well, my sweet little Key, pardon me if I get a little suspicious, especially on the eve of catastrophe.” He took the cup of coffee Buffy held out to him. “All right, let’s hear it.”

 

“We need to find the Conduit,” Angel stated. “The Powers should have something to say about what’s going on. If we’re supposed to fulfill this prophecy, we can’t let Ty or Connor get killed.”

 

Lorne raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You do remember the last time I went to the Conduit, don’t you? It took weeks for my horn to re-grow.”

 

“There isn’t anyone else that can find the location, Lorne,” Emmie said. “We need you.”

 

He sighed. “Okay, you need me. I’m all warm and tingly. Let’s hear the rest of it.”

 

Between Dawn and Wesley, the entire prophecy was easily explained, at least what they knew of it. Wesley had brought his second up to speed earlier that morning, finding Dawn, as always, a quick study. She might have made a brilliant Watcher, if they hadn’t managed to convince her to stay at Wolfram & Hart.

 

“In any case,” Dawn finished up, “we need to contact the Powers somehow. They may decide to protect Connor and Ty.” Connor cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look, which made the young woman roll her eyes. “Fine. Connor doesn’t need any protection. We might convince them to protect Ty.”

 

Lorne thought about it for a few minutes, not at all convinced about the brilliance of this particular plan. Sure, it sounded good, but—“You’re all forgetting one important little detail,” the green-skinned demon pointed out. He wished it was late enough in the day for a Seabreeze. Well, he wished that William kept the makings for a Seabreeze around. “Someone has to talk to the Conduit, and that someone could get some serious bodily harm. The Powers don’t talk to just anyone, kiddos.”

           

They all looked at one another. “I’ve done it,” Angel said. “They weren’t happy to see me, but I didn’t take a lot of damage.”

           

“We can’t have anyone taking damage,” Buffy pointed out pragmatically. “At this point, we need everybody in one piece.” She was wearing the ring, but no one had really noticed it yet. They had too many other things on their minds.

           

“I can go.” All heads turned to look at Ty, who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and looked like any other ten-year-old boy, except for his eyes. His eyes looked ancient.

           

Spike looked at him and said gently, “Ty, this isn’t a job for you. ‘s too dangerous.”

           

“No, it’s not,” his son insisted stubbornly. “I’m the one the prophecy talks about. I’m the one that gets the visions. The Conduit will talk to me.”

           

Spike looked over at Lorne, his eyes pleading. “Tell him, Lorne.”

           

The demon hesitated, not wanting to have to say it, but needing to anyway. “Actually, he’s right, William. The last time we contacted the Conduit, Cordy was in a coma, and that’s the only reason why we couldn’t send her.”

           

Spike looked over at Wesley, who was looking similarly apologetic, as was Dawn. He really didn’t like the looks of this. “Niblet?”

           

Dawn winced, not liking the look Spike was giving her. “Sorry, Spike, but Lorne’s right. From all the research we’ve done on this thing, it’s the Powers’ chosen ones who have the most success at contacting them. It’s not a job for mere mortals. Plus, since he’s a kid, technically he’s more pure. Even if They aren’t happy about him being there, They wouldn’t hurt him.”

           

Wesley nodded a reluctant agreement, and Spike tried desperately to find some other way. “What if Angel and I do it?” he demanded. “We’re mentioned in there.”

           

“If you and Angel go in, and either or both of you are harmed, who will protect Ty then?” Wesley asked gently. “Forgive me, but you two, along with Buffy and Emmie are the ones who have the most chance at ensuring Connor and Titus stay alive. We can’t afford to lose you.”

           

Spike shook his head. “If it’s so dangerous, there’s no way I’m lettin’ Ty do this.”

           

“It won’t be that dangerous,” Lorne pointed out. “As Their chosen instrument, They’ll probably just nudge him out the door if They decide They don’t want him there.”

           

“He won’t be alone,” Connor said suddenly. “I can go in with him.”

           

“Of course,” Wesley said, smiling a little. “As Ty’s Champion, Connor can go anywhere he goes. Ty won’t be unprotected.”

           

Ty came up to stand in front of his father. “I have to do this, Dad. Uncle Gunn got hurt protecting me. This is the best way.”

           

“That wasn’t your fault, luv,” Spike said gently, squatting down so that he was eye-level with Ty. “It’s too dangerous.”

           

“Not for me,” Ty replied. “For everybody else it might be, but not me. Please, Dad.”

           

Spike suddenly had a flashback to the day his son was born, holding him in the hospital, looking into blue eyes for the first time. He loved Buffy, but Ty was his life. And he was growing up too fast. Suddenly he wanted to go back, wanted to take back coming to L.A. and finding Angel again. He wished that he’d stayed in his sleepy little sea-side town. And yet—

           

He looked over at Buffy, wordlessly asking what she thought, knowing that he couldn’t regret coming to Los Angeles. Because if he hadn’t come, he might never have seen his Slayer again. Her lips tightened, and he knew she loved Ty as much as he did. “I don’t think we have a choice, William,” she said softly.

           

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling the pang of letting go just a little more, and then nodded. “All right. You and Connor can go in.” And then he wrapped his son up in a rough hug and left the room abruptly.

           

Ty stood and watched his father go, and then looked over at Buffy, who smiled at him. “Why don’t we get you some breakfast?” she suggested. The boy watched as she shared a look with Angel, who went to follow Spike. Buffy put a hand on Ty’s shoulder and gave him a little hug. “It’s going to be fine, sweetie,” she whispered. But Ty wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him, or herself.

 

~~~~~ 

 

“William.” Angel stood in the doorway of the master bedroom and watched as Spike pulled a long sleeved black t-shirt over his head.

           

“Save it, Peaches,” Spike growled in reply. He grabbed his scuffed black Docs from under the bed and started to shove them on his feet, every movement speaking volumes of frustration and fear.

           

Angel stepped inside and shut the door behind him, waiting. His patience was rewarded minutes later when Spike finally stopped moving. “I can’t lose him again.”

           

The vampire sighed, knowing the other man was referring to the scene in the warehouse two years ago when they had come so close to losing the boy. “You won’t.”

           

“You don’t know that,” Spike replied, sounding infinitely tired. “When this is done, when we find out what the bloody hell the Powers were doin’, I’m takin’ him out of here. I’m not gonna stick around to be a sitting duck.”

           

Angel blinked. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

           

“Yeah, and why not?” Spike put his head in his hands. “Better than stayin’ here and waitin’ for them, whoever they are, to kill us. We don’t know what we’re up against, Angel.”

           

Angel gingerly sat down next to his once-Childe. “So you go off, take Buffy and Ty with you, if Buffy will even go.”

           

“She’ll go,” Spike said evenly.

           

Angel continued. “And do what?”

           

“Run, hide, make sure no one can find us, the usual.”

           

“I’ve never known you to run before, Spike.” Angel looked over at him, and saw raw fear.

           

“That’s because I’ve never run from you, you great pillock,” Spike muttered.

           

Angel bit back a sigh. “And what happens when they catch up with you?” he asked reasonably. “Because they will, you know. So they find you, and overwhelm you with superior numbers, and suddenly Ty, or Buffy and Ty are alone. What then?”

           

Spike suggested something that wasn’t anatomically possible. Angel said nothing, and waited for his anger to cool. “So what’s your big plan, then?” he finally asked with more than a hint of nastiness.

           

“My plan is that we find the Conduit, ask our questions, and make a plan after that,” Angel said steadily. “You’re Ty’s father, but I’m the boss. Not to mention his uncle. Do you really think I want something to happen to him? Do you really think I want to fail again?”

           

Their eyes met then, and for the first time in well over a hundred years, a curious thing happened. For a brief, beautiful fleeting moment, when William had first risen, he and Angelus had been brothers. They had been comrades, until Angelus had shown him that to be a vampire was to take what you wanted, and he had taken Drusilla from him because William had wanted her. But now, they loved the same things. They loved their girlfriends, and a good fight, and a nice stiff drink. And they loved a small boy. One might even say, without going too far, they had grown to love one another. In something over a century, they had come full circle, and now they found themselves brothers again.

           

“No,” Spike said quietly, in response to Angel’s question. “I would trust you with his life.”

           

Angel’s face softened. “You know, William—”

           

“Don’t be goin’ soft on me now, Angelus,” Spike warned. But his eyes told a different story, and Angel nodded in response.

           

“I’ll get him out of this,” Angel promised.

           

“I know.”

 

~~~~~ 

 

Finding the Conduit wasn’t nearly as hard as it should have been, Spike thought grimly, holding Buffy’s hand absently, his thumb fiddling with her new ring. It had been the other women who noticed it first, of course. When Fred had seen it, she’d squealed a little, and then Buffy had been surrounded by the three other women, all of them wanting details as to his proposal. There hadn’t been time for a real celebration, and there wouldn’t be until this mess had been cleared up, but it had lightened everyone’s spirits considerably.

           

But now, as he looked over at his son who was staring absently out the window, he couldn’t help but feel a shiver of foreboding. The way his life usually went, something really bad was about to happen, and he feared to lose it all.

           

Buffy gave his hand a squeeze and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be fine, hon,” she whispered. “Remember how many times we’ve done this?”

           

“Too many,” he replied. “You sure you don’t want to find an island somewhere?”

           

Her smile broadened. “Ask me again when all this is over. But if you’re talking vacation, I think it’s time we both had one. Maybe a long honeymoon,” she suggested. “We can leave Ty with Angel and Emmie. Just think, the two of us, no kids, no work.”

           

Spike smiled in response, feeling better. He couldn’t remember making plans for _after_ an apocalypse before. There had always just been the fight and the unspoken acknowledgement that they might not all make it. Of course, this was the first apocalypse that he and Buffy were facing “together,” with his ring on her finger. They had to make it out of this mess. He raised her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. To his surprise, she blushed, pleased, and he gave her a self-satisfied smirk in return.

           

And then the car stopped, and Wesley and Dawn got out of the front seats, and Spike knew that their time was up. “Love you,” Buffy whispered to him before he could follow Ty out of the car.

           

“Doesn’t look like much,” Spike said reflectively, looking at the open doorway. But the building definitely had a slightly different feel from all the others around it, and he thought he could feel the energy of the area.

           

“Oh, this is it,” Lorne said unhappily, not having pleasant memories of this place. “I don’t think I could forget it if I wanted to.” He looked down at Ty. “You all set, kiddo?”

           

Ty nodded, his face pale under his dark hair. “Yeah.”

           

Lorne gave his hair a ruffle. “Well, don’t you worry. The Powers aren’t going to touch a hair on that head of yours.”

           

Wesley looked down at the boy kindly. “Do you know what questions to ask?”

           

“Uh, huh,” Ty said with a touch of resentment. “I remember.”

           

“Of course you do,” Wesley said with considerable patience.

           

Spike knelt down in front of his son. “Okay. You be careful in there, you hear me? If something comes up, I want you to listen to Connor, alright? He’s in charge, whether you like it or not. Okay?”

           

Ty nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

           

“And when you’re done, you come straight back out here.” Spike stared into his son’s eyes. “I mean it, Ty. You let us handle anything big.” He waited until the boy nodded, and then he took his son’s face in both hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Love you.”

           

Ty gave him a tremulous smile. “Love you. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

           

“Good.” Spike stood, and Buffy came over and gave Ty and hug and a kiss, pausing to whisper something into his ear that made him smile. He looked over and saw Angel giving Connor a restrained handshake.

           

Connor came over to stand next to Ty, his blue-green eyes steady. “I’ll take care of him, William. We’ll be back in no time.” He looked down at the boy. “You ready?”

           

And then, without another word, the Chosen and his Champion stepped through the portal to the Conduit. Spike couldn’t help but fear he’d seen both of them for the last time.


	8. The Conduit

The room was dark and somewhat cold when they walked through the portal. Ty looked around curiously and then jumped, startled, as the fire pit in the center of the room flamed up. The voices came from no particular direction. “Welcome, Chosen.”

           

Ty stiffened. “You know me?”

           

“We know you. We know your Champion.”

           

The voices were sexless, seeming to blow around them. “Then you know what’s going on,” Ty demanded. “You know who wants to kill us.”

           

“Yes.”

           

“Who?” Ty asked, his voice carrying unusual authority for a boy of ten.

           

“The Likt’na’e have asked for your lives. There are many who would seek what they offer.”

           

Connor frowned slightly, even as Ty’s eyes narrowed. “That’s why the demons and vampires have been working together.”

           

“Even so.”

           

“Who are the Likt’na’e?” Connor asked, thinking he might already know the answer.

           

There was a long pause, and then the voices swirled around them again. “Evil. Everywhere. Power.”

           

“The Senior Partners,” Connor murmured. “We should have known it was them. Do we have a chance against them?”

           

“The time is not yet.”

           

“What can we do? Will the Powers help us?” Ty asked.

           

“It is not time.”

           

“When will it be time?” Ty shouted. “When?”

           

“In time.”       

           

“Bloody hell,” Ty swore, causing Connor to look at him. “Show me. Show me what happens if we wait.”

           

“It is not done.”

           

Ty scowled, looking very much like his father in that moment. “So what? You show me the future all the time, right? I’m just the vessel for the Powers. Why should it matter if you show me what I _want_ to see for a change?”

           

There was another long pause, and then Ty was seeing the future. He had enough experience with the visions now to know what was happening even as they came. This time he stood, watching, as his father died trying to protect him. As Buffy was slain trying to save them both. As Fred, and her child, were caught in the crossfire. As Emmie and Angel laid down their lives for him. Until, at the end, only Wesley and Connor were left, and Ty recognized this Wesley from the vision he’d had weeks ago. This Wes was an old, broken man who instructed Ty on taking his revenge from a hospital bed.

           

When the boy finally came back to himself, he knew he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t go now, if he didn’t find a way to stop the Senior Partners from coming after them _now_ , everyone he loved would die. And he would be alone. It would mean the fulfillment of his greatest fear.

           

“I can’t wait,” Ty said out loud. “If I wait, there won’t be anyone left. Uncle Gunn’s already dying.”

           

“It is not time.”

           

“I don’t care!” Ty cried. “I’m not letting them all die!”

           

Connor placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “If we don’t wait, will we lose? Can we beat them today?”

           

“Unknown.”

           

“So if we wait, we’ll be sure to win?” Connor asked.

           

“Nothing is certain. The future is not fixed.”

           

“Then it doesn’t matter when,” Connor insisted.

           

“The Chosen is yet young. He is not ready. His strength is untried.”

           

Connor’s grip on Ty’s shoulder tightened. “Then I’ll be ready for him.”

           

“Champion…” There was a new note in the voice, almost one of respect.

           

Connor quickly followed up. “But I need something first, before I can fight these people. I need to know why. Why I am.”

           

He had wondered if the Conduit would know what he meant, but he didn’t have to wonder for long. “We will give you what you ask,” the voices replied. “We will undo what has been done and restore what was taken.”

           

“What was taken?” Ty asked, staring at Connor, but the man did not hear him. He was seeing visions of his own.

 

_Connor stood in an alley, watching, as a dark haired man leaned over a blonde woman. She was gasping with pain, and Connor could just make out her words. He watched as the man and woman clasped hands, and then she staked herself, the dust settling in the rain, revealing a squalling infant. When the man gathered the baby into his arms, Connor could see his face for the first time. It was Angel._

           

He watched as the memories came more rapidly. At first, they were not all his. He was simply an outside observer, watching as his vampire father held him, sang to him, protected him. Connor watched as Angel, and then Wesley, were betrayed, and he was taken to Quortoth. He witnessed all of it as one removed from the action, until the boy that he had been was about five. After that, the memories were his own.

_Connor remembered the love and the brutality that Holtz had shown him. Remembered learning about demons at his father’s feet. Remembered learning to track and hunt and show no mercy. Remembered being called Destroyer for very good reasons. Remembered punching through to another dimension, Angel’s dimension, for a chance to kill the vampire, Angelus._

_All these memories came, although they did not displace the implanted memories. Connor could still remember his foster parents, his sisters. He remembered what it had been like to be part of a normal, happy home, and he could compare the two._

_There was no comparison._

_With Holtz, he had known love, but he had been taught to hate, to kill, without compunction or thought. He had learned that the world was black and white, with no room for shades of gray. There was good and evil, and nothing in between._

_The young man Connor now remembered being would never have understood what he knew now. People were good and bad, mixed together. Sometimes doing the right thing was not easy, and the enemy might come in the guise of a friend. Sometimes it is the one who loves you most that hurts you the most. Holtz had loved him, and in the end Holtz had destroyed him._

_Reliving all of this, he could begin to appreciate the gift that Angel had bestowed. Connor had a chance to see the almost-tangible love, and later, the very real pain, as Angel’s son hated and betrayed him. Tried to destroy him._

_Connor relived his life right up until the moment Angel made his bargain with the devil, literally, and then it all just—stopped._

 

~~~~~

 

Spike paced outside the entrance, frustration and worry growing by the second. “This is taking too long,” he growled.

           

Buffy put a restraining hand on his arm. “Relax, Spike. It’s only been about ten minutes.”

           

“Still too long,” he replied, refusing to be comforted. He looked over at Angel and Emmie, who stood talking quietly. Angel was the reason they had waited until just after nightfall to come here. Fred and Dawn had been sent to the hospital to watch over Gunn. All of them had felt badly that no one was sitting with him, and it made the most sense for the two non-superheroes to go, as Dawn pointed out reasonably.

           

Neither Angel nor Emmie wanted to let the other out of their sight, and they had quite a bit of talking to do to make things right between them again. Spike wasn’t terribly concerned about either, though. There was a great deal of affection and understanding between them. Both had put a lot of work into their relationship, and neither wanted to give up. No, it was Wesley he was concerned about. Wesley, who stood a little apart from the rest of them, shoulders hunched against something no one else could see.

           

Buffy followed his eyes, and rubbed his shoulder a little. “It’ll be fine,” she promised. “Like you said, we’ve done this before. We can do it again.”

           

“Feel like I’m getting too old for this,” Spike confessed quietly. Not that he and Buffy were old, exactly, but she wasn’t twenty anymore, and he wasn’t a vampire. Mortality and age definitely made a difference.

           

The Slayer leaned her head against his chest. “I know. Me too, some days.”

           

“Will!”

           

Spike looked over where Emmie was standing with Angel, the look on her face one of alarm. Angel and Wesley were both standing there with blank looks on their faces. Both appeared to be in a trance. Just then, Buffy’s cell phone rang.

           

She answered it, but only because the caller i.d. showed that it was her sister calling. “What is it, Dawnie?” she asked.

           

There was a long pause, and then she said in a low voice, “Angel and Wes are doing the same thing. Just watch out for her, and we’ll try and figure out what’s going on, okay?” She ended the call and looked over at Spike. “Fred’s got the same problem. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

           

Spike could think of several ways to go with a question like that, but the seriousness of the situation prevented it. “Somethin’ to do with that spell Angel had done for Connor,” he said flatly. Emmie was ignoring them in favor of keeping an anxious eye on the slack-jawed vampire.

           

“Exactly.” Buffy looked at the entrance to the Conduit, torn. “I think we need to wait, Spike,” she said, voicing the thoughts that were racing inside his own mind. “If we go in—”

           

“Angel and Wes could be vulnerable. Bloody hell,” he muttered, not liking it. Whatever was happening, he had no idea what was going on inside, with his son. On the other hand, if he, Buffy, and Emmie weren’t effected, chances were that Ty wasn’t either, though Connor certainly would be. He thought of several other, more colorful phrases that he could use, and bit them off. Swearing wasn’t going to do them any good right now. He needed to think.

           

Slowly, both Angel and Wesley blinked, coming back to themselves. “What happened?” Emmie demanded from her spot at the vampire’s side.

           

Angel just shook his head, but Wesley answered for the both of them. “I remember now.” He looked over at his boss, his eyes accusing. “I remember everything.”

           

Spike was through waiting. Ty had been in there for long enough, and something was happening. Actions were being taken, and Spike did not like being left out of things. “Angel. Let’s go.”

           

The vampire looked at him, and nodded abruptly. “Fine.” He touched Emmie once on the cheek in a silent good-bye, and without another word, they went through the portal together.

 

~~~~~ 

 

As Connor gradually came out of his memory-induced daze, he realized that Ty was still talking to the Conduit, arguing over something. “Does it matter if I die?” he was asking. “As long as I take them with me?” Connor began to be a little alarmed at this line of questioning, and he really didn’t like the answer.

 

“Their deaths preserve the balance.”

 

“Then send me there. I want this over with.” Ty’s chin was set stubbornly, his blue eyes absolutely fierce.

 

“It is not done.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t do it,” Ty said, his voice growing just a little louder. “You want these guys dead? Then you get me there, and you get me there now. Otherwise, I’m going to make sure they stay alive. I’ll join the dark side if I have to, but I’m not going let anybody else die.”

 

The funny thing was, Ty meant it. Like his father, when it came to the people he loved, he could be slightly irrational. And at ten, he could not comprehend the idea of the necessary sacrifice. Ty simply didn’t want to lose anybody else, and he was certain of his own immortality.

 

The lighting in the room dimmed briefly, and then something shimmered in the air. Connor backed up instinctively, but Ty stood his ground as energy swirled and a portal opened right in front of him.

 

Connor realized with dismay that the boy meant to go through and that he was too far away to stop him. Sometime during his own vision, and Ty’s request, they had moved away from each other. “Ty, wait. Don’t.”

 

Ty looked back at him. “I have to go,” he said simply, and jumped through.

 

Connor’s eyes widened, and then he heard a gasp behind him. Spike and Angel had just stepped through the entrance, and they seemed impossibly far away. They would not be able to make it to the portal in time to get through. Connor might just manage it. And he was Ty’s Champion. He hadn’t understood completely before, but he thought he did now. He had a destiny, and he had power. Something every one of his three fathers had taught him was that with ability comes responsibility. He understood that now.

 

“I’ve got to go,” he called over his shoulder. “Tell Wesley he was right. It was the Senior Partners. We’re going to the Likt’na’e.” Connor hoped it would be enough to tell them where to go. He hoped he would be enough to protect his charge. The portal was closing, there was no more time.

           

He leapt.


	9. Down the Rabbit Hole

Angel had to almost drag Spike out of the Conduit, even though he was helped along by what felt like a giant fist. Apparently the Powers had done as much as They were going to do and were done helping. If Spike had his way, however, he would have found the source of those very annoying voices and ripped them into tiny shreds. Following which, he would have quite happily killed his son, once he was certain Ty was safe. After all, the boy had promised to come straight out once he’d gotten the answers to their questions.

           

Buffy was instantly by their side once they’d exited the portal. “Ty?”

           

“Gone,” Spike said, his voice hoarse with worry and anger. “Bloody bastards opened a portal to wherever an’ he walked right through.”

           

“Connor went with him?” Wesley asked quickly, anxiety casting a dark shadow over his face.

           

Angel nodded shortly. “We got inside just in time to see Ty go through, Connor followed him.” The vampire met Wesley’s eyes. “Connor said to tell you that you were right about it being the Senior Partners. And he also said they were going to the Likt’na’e. That mean anything to you?”

           

The ex-Watcher shook his head absently. “It sounds quite familiar. Chances are I’ve seen it recently. I’ll have to look into it. But if the Powers actually opened the portal, I’m not sure how likely it is that we can do the same.”

           

“I’ll get there if I have to tear apart the entire soddin’ world,” Spike growled. “And when I get my hands on that kid…” He left the threat unfinished, but they all knew Ty wasn’t going to be un-grounded anytime before his twenty-first birthday.

           

“He’ll be fine, Will,” Emmie said. “Ty’s smart and resourceful, and he’s got Connor looking out for him.” She glanced over at Angel, who looked just as worried. “They’ll both be fine.”

           

Buffy’s cell phone rang, and she answered it. “Yeah, Dawn.” There was a long pause, and then she said quietly. “We’re on our way.” The Slayer looked at the others, and with somber eyes, she broke the bad news. “Dawn said Gunn just died. They couldn’t stop the internal bleeding.”

           

A heavy silence fell across the group as they absorbed the news. It was Angel who finally broke the silence. “Let’s go. Wes can pick up Fred from the hospital and start the research. But—”

           

“We need to be there,” Spike finished.

 

~~~~~ 

 

The meeting at the hospital was a grim affair. Angel was the one to take charge, to start the decision making process on preparing the body and calling the funeral home. The rest of them were in a daze. While not all had been particularly close to Gunn, they had all worked with him, liked him, even admired him.

           

Wesley slipped away from the gathering for a moment to view the body. The hospital staff had not yet come to take it to the morgue, and so Gunn still lay on the hospital bed. He wasn’t sure what to say, not after knowing—remembering―what he did now. The two of them had been as close as brothers at one point, but somewhere along the way they had lost that.

           

He opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again. Really, there was nothing to say. There were no words appropriate to the occasion. “Goodbye, Charles,” he said simply. “I will not forget you.”

 

~~~~~ 

 

Connor glanced over at Ty in annoyance. “You wanna stop that?” he asked.

           

Ty looked over from where he was standing at the other side of the cave and then deliberately continued throwing pebbles at the opposite wall. “You got something better to do?” he asked belligerently.

           

“Well, you could try sleeping,” Connor suggested, without much hope for success. He couldn’t blame the kid for being a little wired, maybe a little jumpy. After stepping through that portal, they had found themselves in alien territory and near-darkness. It was a good thing for both of them that Connor had a vampire’s night vision, or they would never have found the cave, which was dimly lit by some kind of phosphorescence. Without some kind of shelter, the danger would have been much greater.

           

But even inside the relative safety of the cave, neither one of them knew quite what to do. The future was unknown; the step through had been an impulsive move on Ty’s part, and Connor was no better off. They were well aware that they knew next to nothing about what they might face.

           

Connor, especially, was more than a little concerned. Now that he could remember his time spent in Quortoth, he had a pretty good idea of what to expect from a hell dimension, and none of it was good. Plus, as he had so intimately experienced, time might pass very differently here. They could find a way back only to discover that years had passed on the other side. Or they could spend years trying to fulfill their mission, only to discover mere days had passed on Earth. There was no way of telling.

           

Ty, for his part, was already beginning to regret what he’d done. Not that he thought it had been wrong to try and prevent all those deaths, but the Conduit had told him that the future was not fixed; it was possible that by knowing what would happen, they might have been able to change things. Maybe he could have been more prepared. Surely his uncle Wes would have been able to give him a better idea of what he was supposed to do, what he was going to face. But now he and Connor had gone in blind, and that was never a good idea.

           

“I’m not tired,” he finally replied, slumping down next to Connor. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the older man. He was used to being the only “kid” in Angel’s life. It was weird to think of Angel having a son, one who was only supposed to be a year older than him.

           

Connor sighed. “Try. It’ll make the time go by faster. I’ll stay awake.”

           

“Why did you come?” Ty asked suddenly.

           

“Did I have a choice?” Connor asked in reply. “And could you maybe think things through a little better next time? I’d be a lot happier if I had a weapon right now.”

           

Ty faced him, knowing Connor would be able to see him clearly, even in the dimness of the cave. “I didn’t have a choice either,” he replied. “They said everyone would die if I waited.” He smiled a little. “Besides, have you met my dad? Patience isn’t in the gene pool.”

           

Connor grinned a little in return. He’d gotten a taste of William’s impatience a few times already. “Well, maybe next time you could give me a warning at least.”

           

“What did they show you?”

           

Connor paused. “They showed me my past, what I couldn’t remember before.”

           

“Was it bad?”

           

“Bad enough.” He suddenly reached out and pulled Ty to his side, wanting to _feel_ the boy next to him, wanting to have some kind of human contact.

           

“Are you still mad at Uncle Angel?” Ty asked, wanting to like Connor, but wanting to defend Angel as well. If Connor hated Angel, then how could Ty like him?

           

“No,” Connor replied quietly. “No, I get it now.” He shifted so they were both settled more comfortably. “Go to sleep now, cousin.”

 

~~~~~ 

 

Wesley was surrounded by piles of books, though none of them were doing him any good. Finding references to the Likt’na’e was difficult at best, and he had conflicting reports as to what dimension they seemed to reside in. Nothing gave him any indication of how to locate it, or even how to get there once he had. William had tried to help with the research, but was too antsy to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. Wesley had finally asked Buffy to take him somewhere, anywhere else would do. Lorne was talking to his connections in the hope of finding something that way. Angel and Emmie were off on their own, since neither of them excelled at research. And Dawn was proving absolutely invaluable.

           

“This isn’t working, Wes,” the young woman finally told him. “We need—I don’t know. Something. But I’m not finding anything at all.”

           

The ex-Watcher leaned back in his chair and stretched, glancing over at Fred who was busy surfing the ‘net, trying to find resources that way. “I realize that, Dawn,” he replied. “But there isn’t much else we can do. Until we find some indication of the dimension in question, all we can do is keep researching. We don’t even know the name of it.”

           

“Oh, hey!” Fred called out. “Look at this.”

           

Dawn and Wesley came to stand behind her. Fred looked up and grinned at Wes. “Stupid me. I should have started here.”

           

Wesley blinked as he realized he was looking at the Wolfram & Hart website, but not a version he had seen before. “What is this?”

           

“It’s the website for the New York branch,” Fred explained excitedly. “They’re still evil, you know, and are controlled by the Senior Partners. There’s a section on here about the CEO, and apparently he’s _from_ Likt’na’e.”

           

Wesley and Dawn exchanged a glance, and Dawn rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this hours ago.”

           

“It’s never that easy,” Wesley protested, but just as surprised. Now, at least, they knew “Likt’na’e” was actually the name of the dimension. “Of course, getting there could be another thing altogether.”

           

“Did you find something?” Spike asked as he and Buffy entered the room. He was looking a little calmer, though anyone who knew him could tell it was a façade, one that was barely holding.

           

“We know the name of the dimension,” Dawn said. “That’s a really good start. Once we figure out how to get there, we’ll be all set.”

           

Buffy frowned. “Why don’t we call Willow?” she asked. “Remember that time with the portal and the book? She might have some idea. And if she doesn’t know, the coven might.”

           

“If it’s apocalypse stuff, they’ll be willing to help,” Dawn agreed.

           

Spike smiled a little. “Willow will help, anyway. Got a lot of power, that one. She might be able to just punch through.”

           

Wesley and Fred shared a look. Now that the gaps had been filled in, they had no trouble recalling what had happened the last time Angel had tried to “punch through” to a hell dimension. Rips in reality were not something they cared to deal with again. “Let’s try opening a door,” Fred suggested nervously. “We’ve done the punching thing before, and it’s not a great idea.”

           

Spike’s look grew stubborn. “This is Ty we’re talking about.”

           

Buffy lay a hand on his arm. “We know, William,” she reminded him. “We’re just as worried as you are. But starting a different apocalypse by pushing the wrong button doesn’t help anyone, even Ty.”

           

He sighed but didn’t say anything. Buffy gave his arm another squeeze and looked at the rest of the group. “I’ll call Willow and see what she can do from England. We may have to wait until she gets here, though.”

           

Wesley nodded. “Even if she can just tell us how to form a portal, I’m not certain I would be strong enough to create it. And then, of course, there’s the matter of getting back here.”

           

Buffy smiled good-naturedly. “I’ll be sure to mention that.”

           

“Should we let Angel know?” Fred asked.

           

Spike sighed and flopped down on the couch, unconsciously mirroring his son’s actions, several dimensions away. “No, let the poof and his girl alone for a bit. They’ve got some things to work out, and it’s not like they can do anything right now anyway.”

           

~~~~~ 

 

Angel and Emmie were closeted in the guest bedroom, both seated on the bed, Emmie leaning into him, offering and giving comfort. Of all of them, Angel was probably the one who had been closest to Gunn at this point. “I’m sorry,” Angel whispered into her hair. “I shouldn’t have been so stubborn about telling everyone about Connor. If I hadn’t waited—”

           

“If you hadn’t waited, we would have known, but that doesn’t mean the Senior Partners wouldn’t have tried to kill us anyway,” Emmie pointed out reasonably. She turned to look at him, lifting a gentle hand to caress his cheek. “Sweetheart, this wasn’t your fault. Even if we’d known who Connor was, none of us were prepared for a half dozen bombs being set off in the office. It just happened. Gunn knew the kind of risks that are involved with being who we are. If he’d had a problem with it, he could have opted out years ago.”

           

“Could he?” Angel asked, still deeply grieved. “Gunn knew what was out there, and that’s why he did his job. I’m not sure any of us have a choice in the end.”

           

Emmie sighed. “No, probably we don’t. Even if I woke up tomorrow as a normal girl and not a Slayer, I still would keep going. It’s who we are.” She intertwined her fingers with his. “But that still doesn’t mean that Gunn didn’t know the risks involved, or that you’re somehow to blame for all of this.”

           

“Yeah,” Angel agreed finally. “I should have told you about Connor a long time ago,” he admitted. “I didn’t even know how to begin though. I couldn’t figure out what to say to you.”

           

She smiled a little. “I know. Heaven knows I’ve had a couple years to figure you out, and I shouldn’t have been that surprised that you _didn’t_ tell me. But you get why I was mad at you?”

           

Angel nodded. “I get it. And if I were you, I would have been mad at me too.”

           

Emmie smiled, satisfaction in her eyes. “As long as you understand,” she stated. “When Connor and I went to your office, and the windows were gone, I realized that I might have already lost you. The last words I had spoken to you were in anger, and I hated that.”

           

“I couldn’t bear the thought that I had lost you because I was being stupid,” Angel replied, kissing her deeply.

           

Emmie returned the kiss, and then met his gaze, her own dark eyes glinting mischievously. “Come on, Angel. If I left you because you were being stupid, this relationship wouldn’t have lasted six months.”

           

Angel glared at her until he figured out she was teasing him. “Brat.”

           

She grinned in return. “Pillock.”

           

“You’ve been spending too much time with Spike,” he accused.

           

“Then maybe when this is all over you should do something about that,” Emmie replied, her lips twisting up into a smug smile.

           

“When this is over, that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Angel responded, and then bent to kiss her again.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Buffy re-entered the room after speaking to Willow on the phone. “She’s talking to the coven about it,” she said. “Willow said she’d get here as soon as she could.”

           

Spike grunted, a deeply dissatisfied sound. “How long will that take her?”

           

The Slayer shrugged. “A day? Two? I don’t know. You’re just going to have to be patient.” At his raised eyebrow, Buffy rolled her eyes. “However out of character that might be for you.” Her face softening, she murmured, “I told you. We’re going to get him back.”

           

“Connor is more than capable,” Wesley said from his own position at the dining room table. “I would imagine that his restored memories will make him that much more effective in keeping both him and Ty safe.”

           

Fred gave Spike a reassuring smile as well. “I know you haven’t seen him fight, William, but Connor’s good. Probably as good as Angel.”

           

Spike sighed. This reminded him of the waiting that had been done before the gang had gone to confront Glory. Then, too, there had been the need to assess their positions and gather their strength, while all they had really wanted to do was to go pull Dawn out of the Hellgod’s clutches. He hated this part of the battle, even as he understood its necessity. “He’s my kid,” he finally said, and they all understood what he meant by that.

           

Right about then Angel and Emmie came wandering back into the room, hand in hand. Despite everything, Spike was glad to see it. She and Angel were good for each other, and it always helped to be able to find a little comfort in the middle of the storm. “You two finally kiss and make up?” he asked, with just a hint of humor.

           

“We did,” Angel replied evenly, his soul feeling lighter now that their fight had been resolved. “When do we move out?”

           

Wesley shook his head. “We’re waiting for Willow,” he explained. “She and the coven are working on a way to get us to Likt’na’e. Until then—”

           

“Did someone call my name?” Seven heads turned at once to see Willow standing in the entrance to the living room. She smiled at the rest of them, pleased with her entrance. “I did get here as quickly as I could.”

           

After the immediate hubbub calmed, and hugs were exchanged, they all sat down to a full council of war. “I couldn’t get much information on the Senior Partners,” Willow began. “But one of the sisters knew of Likt’na’e and how to get there. It takes a lot of power, but it’s definitely doable.”

           

“Am I missing something?” Lorne came into the living room to find everyone gathered around the red-haired witch. “Willow, honey, when did you get in?”

           

“About fifteen minutes ago,” she said, rising to greet Lorne with a hug. “The coven teleported me in.”

           

Lorne’s red eyes widened. “Do tell. They think it’s that important, then?”

           

“The portents indicate that both Ty and Connor will be major players in the future, great forces for the light,” Willow replied. “They think it’s in the world’s best interests to make sure they both come out of this alive.”

           

“Which brings us back to getting there,” Spike said. “Can you do it?”

           

Willow favored him with a look. She well knew how impatient Spike could be, especially when it concerned someone he cared about. “I can. I can also get you back here, which is just as important.”

           

“What do you need?” Dawn asked quickly, already making a list in her head of magic suppliers.

           

Willow shook her head. “I have everything I need, Dawnie. It’s just a matter of putting things together.” She looked over at the younger woman. “In fact, you’re one of the key ingredients. Pun intended.”

           

“Oh no,” Buffy protested. “We’ve been through this before.”

           

“That’s not what she means,” Wesley said, his eyes brightening. “Willow would provide the focus, the blood is simply the key that opens the door.”

           

Willow smiled at him as a teacher would at a particularly quick student. “Dawn’s blood also gets you back here,” she explained. “Because Spike and Angel are tied to Connor and Ty, I can use their blood as a homing beacon. Once everything is over, Buffy uses a little of her blood to activate the portal again. Since she’s tied to Dawn, that brings you all back here.”

           

“It’s always about the blood,” Spike murmured, looking over at Buffy and remembering once again. It was a little too much like déjà vu; he remembered all too well how that apocalypse had ended.

           

“So when do we get started?” Emmie asked.

           

Willow hesitated and then looked at the clock. “I can have the portal ready in a couple hours,” she said confidently. “Until then, you guys might want to get something to eat and take a nap. No telling how long it’s going to be before you can do that again.”

           

“Good,” Angel said. “Spike, Buffy, Emmie and I will go through the portal. Wesley, Fred, Dawn, and Willow will hold the fort from this end.”

           

“Angel,” Wesley protested. “I’m coming too. I can be of service.”

           

“You’re more help to me here, Wes,” Angel said gently. “Someone needs to stay. I want you in charge of Wolfram & Hart in case we don’t get back.”

           

Wesley’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said harshly. “The Senior Partners are behind this whole thing. Wolfram & Hart isn’t ours any longer.”

           

“It’s ours because we’ve made it ours,” Angel insisted. “If something happens to us, someone needs to make sure it stays in our hands, that it doesn’t go back to being used for evil purposes.” Wesley didn’t look like he was going to back down anytime soon. “Wes.” The vampire moved closer to his old friend, putting a hand on his arm and looking him in the eye. “You’ve got more to lose than any of us by going. I need you to stay because you can do real good here. You can make sure we don’t lose the battle on this end. But more than that, Fred needs you. So does your kid. You owe it to both of them to stay.”

           

Wesley wanted to protest. After all, hadn’t his relationship with Virginia ended because he couldn’t stay off the front lines? Yet, looking over at Fred, he could see in her eyes that she wanted him to stay, but wouldn’t ask it of him. She would let him make his own decision, because he had always tried to do the same for her. The ex-Watcher looked around the room at the faces of his friends, feeling another pang as he recognized that Gunn’s face was missing. Knowing that from now on, Gunn would always be missing.

           

Seeing his hesitation, Angel said quietly, “Someone who knows the truth has to live through this.”

           

“You would play that card,” Wesley said evenly, but the emotion in his eyes betrayed him. “I’ll stay.”

           

Angel squeezed his shoulder in silent thanks. “All right. Grab something to eat, people. We leave in two hours.” His eyes met Spike’s with the same look of grim determination. “We’re gonna bring our sons back.”


	10. End of the Line

Connor and Ty both looked around the grayish world. It seemed as though all the color had been leeched out a long time ago. Even the little plant life they could see was of a gray-green hue, and the sky was the kind of color that would have threatened rain back home. Connor had a feeling that it was always that way here.

           

“What now?” Ty asked, his voice trembling just a little.

           

“I don’t know,” Connor admitted. He had no clue where they were going. For all he knew, they could wander around for the next few years and never get anywhere. “We’ll probably need to try and find water or something. If they even have that here.” Even as he said it, he cursed himself for scaring the kid even more than he was already.

           

Ty turned big blue eyes up to him. “I really screwed us over, didn’t I?”

           

Connor reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Look, I survived for eighteen years in a hell dimension that was a hundred times worse than this one. We’ll be fine.” Connor thought for a moment, trying to decide what their priority should be. Try and find the bad guys, so they could kill them and try to find a way home? Or, should they be looking for food and water first? He had an idea, which he quickly dismissed, and then reconsidered. Connor couldn’t believe he would seriously turn their mission over to a ten-year-old, but then again, he had never thought he’d be stuck in a hell dimension again.

           

“What does your gut tell you, Ty?”

           

“What?” Ty stared at him.

           

Connor squatted down in front of him so their eyes were level. “Look, kid, you’re the Chosen one, right? The one that gets the visions? So you know a little more than I do about where we’re going. What does your gut tell you?”

           

Ty shook his head, remembering at the same time that his dad had always told him to follow his gut. To go with his instincts. His mom had always done that. Focusing, as Wesley had taught him to do before a spell, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sure enough, when he concentrated, he could feel a slight tugging sensation, and he took a step in that direction. “This way. I think.”

           

Connor stood and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You lead the way, then. I’m right behind you.”

 

~~~~~ 

 

Willow looked at Buffy, hazel eyes deeply serious. “You get it?”

           

“I think so.” Buffy held up the blood-red stone. It had been clear before Willow had put one drop each of Angel and Spike’s blood on it. “You open the portal with your key, we go through. When we’re ready to come back, we put a drop of my blood on the stone, and you’ll open the portal from this end.”

           

The witch nodded, satisfied that her friend understood the drill. “Right. Piece of cake.”

           

Wesley was watching the entire procedure with a mixture of awe and envy. He wasn’t bad with a spell book himself, but he couldn’t hope to match the red-head for power. “What will you do when you get there?” he asked.

           

Spike was the first to answer. “We’ll have a look around. If we can, we’ll take out the bloody bastards. They owe us for Gunn.”

           

Angel nodded his agreement. “You’ll take care of the rest of the funeral arrangements in case we don’t make it back in time?” he asked Wes.

           

The other man nodded and felt Fred slip a hand into his own. “Be careful,” she said.

           

“Will do,” Buffy said almost cheerfully. She was happiest when the waiting was over and the action could begin. She and Dawn shared a look and a hug, but didn’t say anything. Anything they might have said at that point would have felt too much like last words.

           

“Ready?” Willow asked.

           

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Emmie said, taking a tighter grip on her crossbow. All of them were armed, and Angel carried an extra ax for Connor, knowing that his son had gone in weaponless.

           

Willow handed a pin to Dawn, who pricked her finger and smeared a single drop of blood on the clear stone the witch held. It began to glow an eerie red color, and Willow started to chant. She herself was glowing brightly, the pure white of her radiance was a startling contrast to the red light of the stone. And then the air of the living room shimmered and great gusts of air blew around them. “Go now!” Willow finally called out as the portal opened.

           

Spike went first, Buffy right on his heels, and then Emmie and Angel swiftly followed. The four of them landed with a thump in the dim light of the gray world. Fred had managed to find out that the atmosphere wasn’t harmful for either vampires or humans at least, so they didn’t have to worry about any nasty surprises that way.

           

Spike reached down a hand to help his fiancée up, and then looked around. “So where are they?” he asked. “Willow said that stone was supposed to take us right to them.”

           

Angel pointed off into the distance. “Look.” The group could just make out two small figures on the barren horizon. “What do you want to bet that’s them?” And then the vampire sighed as he realized Spike had already started running. He shared a look with Emmie. “I guess that’s our signal to go,” he muttered.

           

Buffy was only a step or two behind Spike as he ran to catch up with the two figures. She might have warned him to be careful if one hadn’t obviously been a child. “Ty!” Spike called out.

           

The smaller shape stopped abruptly and turned, then started running towards them. “Dad?”

           

Ty was in his father’s arms in seconds, Spike hanging onto him tightly. Then Spike put him down and gave him a little shake. “What the bloody hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “You scared about ten years off my life, Titus William. I told you to come straight out.”

           

“But, Dad—”

           

“Don’t ‘but Dad’ me,” Spike interrupted. “I swear, when we get back home you’re goin’ to be grounded well into the next century. What were you thinkin’?”

           

“They said you were all gonna die,” Ty explained, just as Connor, Angel, and Emmie caught up to them.

           

“They don’t know squat,” Spike said vehemently. “We can take care of ourselves, luv. It’s not your job to worry about us.”

           

Ty’s lip trembled. “They showed me.”

           

“Spike,” Buffy put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a look that told him now was not the time for lectures. “We need to decide what we’re going to do.”

           

“You know how to get us out of here?” Connor asked.

           

Angel nodded. “Willow turned up. She’s standing by, but we need to figure out whether we’re going to stay and finish this or go back.”

           

“I think we should stay,” Emmie said quietly. “We’re here now. We’re as ready as we’re ever going to be. I don’t think we can afford to waste this opportunity.”

           

Ty looked from one face to another, and suddenly realized that Gunn hadn’t been anywhere in his vision of a possible future. “Is Uncle Gunn okay?”

           

Spike closed his eyes and brought Ty in close. “No, Little Man. He’s not.”

           

Ty buried his face in his dad’s shoulder. “I gotta stop them. I gotta, Dad.”

           

“I know, luv.” Spike sighed. He looked up at Angel. “You up for this, Peaches?”

           

Angel raised an eyebrow. “Do you have to ask?” He looked over at his son. “Connor?”

           

“I’m in,” Connor replied, catching the ax that his father threw to him. “Might as well be now as later.”

           

“Good,” Buffy stated. “I never liked the idea of waiting for someone to come after us, anyway.”

           

Emmie pulled a couple sandwiches and bottles of water out of the backpack she carried. She’d been a nanny for too long not to realize that both Ty and Connor would probably be hungry and thirsty. “Which way we headed?” she asked.

           

“Ty knows,” Connor stated.

           

The boy nodded, looking off into the distance, his eyes glazing over. “It’s that way. They’re waiting for us.”

           

They walked onward in a silence that was almost oppressive. There was a sense about their journey that was almost like fate, or destiny, if you preferred that word. Spike, for his part, didn’t much like it. Destiny was just another way to say “dead,” as far as he was concerned. And he should know; he’d had the same feeling wearing that bloody amulet into the cavern to face the First. Only this time it was his son who seemed to be the Chosen One, and Spike liked that even less.

           

Silence seemed to beg for contact, and Buffy’s empty hand found Spike’s. It was nice that her lover was a lefty in this case, since neither of them had to switch weapons hands. Angel and Emmie walked just behind them, their arms constantly brushing, while Connor strode ahead, just behind Ty.

           

The boy, for his part, seemed to be focused on only one thing now, homing in on his destination like a pigeon coming home to roost. Now that his father and Angel were with him, Ty felt as though things were finally right. As though it were truly time. Even if Ty had doubted before, there was no room for questions now. Nothing entered his mind except his goal.

           

A huge structure rose up before them, like some weird Parthenon, all columns and statues. Except the statues resembled things that were nothing like the Greek gods. Instead, they were replicas of demons and monsters, creatures out of a person’s worst nightmares. Snarling mouths and gaping jaws, claws that were depicted as disemboweling frightened victims. Above the columns was a long frieze, depicting all manner of evils: slavery, torture, maiming, wars. It was a tribute to all that Wolfram & Hart, and hence the Senior Partners, had done in every dimension in which they had a foothold. For Ty, who had seen all these horrors and worse in his visions, it was one more reason to do what he must.

           

Ty felt a hand on each of his shoulders, Connor on his right hand side, Spike on his left. He turned and looked up at his father. “I have to get inside the inner sanctuary.”

           

Spike swallowed. Was it too late to forbid his son to do this? Couldn’t he turn around, activate the portal, and they’d all go home? Would he be a coward if they ran? “I have to go,” Ty stated, as though he were reading Spike’s mind, and his son’s eyes, so much like his own, were ancient.

           

“I know,” he replied. Spike put his right hand on his son’s head in benediction, and then looked over at Connor. “See that he makes out of there. We’ve got your backs.”

           

Then, as they faced forward again, the huge doorway filled with things in robes, their clawed hands indicating that they were anything but human. In one quick movement, Ty was behind Spike and Connor. Angel and the Slayers had come to stand shoulder to shoulder with them. Buffy looked over at her lover and raised an eyebrow, wordlessly asking if he was ready. His only reply was an evil smirk.

           

The battle was both easier and harder than any Spike had ever fought before. It was easier because they seemed enchanted, all their movements synchronized into as near a perfect dance as any he’d ever had. The five of them moved like a finely tuned machine, and there was joy in the fight.

           

But it was harder because Spike had turned the welfare of his only son over to a man he trusted, but barely knew. He knew that Connor was Ty’s Champion, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch the both of them disappear into the hole that the four of them created at the entrance to the temple.

           

Connor swung the ax with ease, keeping a careful eye on the kid. Ty moved with the kind of grace only a pre-adolescent possesses. He had picked up a knife somewhere, and had already used it once to defend himself; Gunn’s aborted lesson was coming in handy.

           

The two of them had entered the outer sanctuary now, the inner room within sight. Connor knew from the look on Ty’s face that was where they needed to be, where their twin destinies were leading them. He couldn’t help but think, even in the midst of the battle, that none of them might not make it out alive. There were a finite number of the robed creatures defending the temple, but they had no idea what kind of creatures they would face in the Senior Partners.

           

“Connor!” Angel’s voice made him turn. The vampire was inside the doorway now, the sword he was wielding dripping with black ichor. “Spike said to go ahead. They’re holding the doorway.”

           

Connor nodded, showing that he’d heard, and took two steps forward towards the inner sanctuary. The ground shook, throwing him forward, and a great chasm opened up behind him, separating him from Ty and his father.

           

Ty let out a startled yelp, and was thrown back, mere millimeters from the edge. Behind him, a great wall of flame shot up, cutting him off from Angel. The ground shook again, and the chasm deepened further. Ty scrambled back from the edge, finding himself trapped between the wall of flame and the edge.

           

Connor froze on the other side. He thought he might be able to jump it, but there was no way he could make the return jump with Ty’s weight. Suddenly, there was a howl of pain as Angel shot through the flames, fire catching at his arms and legs. His demon’s mask in place, with a vampire’s speed and strength, he caught Ty up in his hands and tossed him across the gap into Connor’s waiting arms.

           

Connor watched in horror as Angel dropped and rolled, but either the fire had spread too quickly or there was something in the flames that resisted being extinguished. Connor pulled Ty’s head to his chest, preventing him from seeing the vampire’s immolation, smothering his own cry of pain as best he could.

           

“Uncle Angel!” Ty screamed, struggling to get out of Connor’s arms, but his Champion held him fast, fearing that the boy might try to leap the chasm if he let go. Suddenly knowing what _must_ be done, he sprinted, holding the struggling boy still in his arms. Through the sanctuary entrance, past the startled guards, right into the middle of a group of demons.

           

Ty stopped struggling. He knew what these beings were; they were what had been depicted on the walls and in the statuary outside. These were the things that had killed Gunn and Angel. They were the reason so many had died. Connor, sensing the change in him, set him down, and backed off to a reasonable distance.

           

“It’s over,” Ty announced, his voice suddenly deep. If Buffy or his father had been there, they would have recognized what they were seeing. He stepped forward, closer to the Senior Partners, and had the pleasure of watching them back up a couple steps. “You’re finished.”

           

And then he began to glow with an intense radiance that was startling. The demons averted their faces in fear, speaking in their own tongue, a language neither Connor or Ty had ever heard before. It didn’t matter; they wouldn’t be hearing it again.

           

As Spike had done in the cavern below Sunnydale a decade before, Ty stood immobile, beams of light emanating out of him. As with his father, the light had a cleansing effect on everything, and everyone, it touched, and the demons began to smoke, burn, and finally burst into flame. Unlike his father, however, the boy was an innocent, the Vessel of the Powers That Be, and in this case, a conduit for the power that flowed through him.

           

Ty felt as though he were standing in midstream of a swollen river, and he was unmoved. He felt clean, pure, beautiful. He felt powerful, invincible, untouched.

           

Then there was silence. And darkness.


	11. Completion

The chasm was gone, as were the flames. Ty wasn’t sure whether the pit had been illusion or reality, but the flames had been real enough. Real enough to kill Angel at least. Ty turned in the middle of the room and watched as Connor walked towards the spot where he had last seen his father.

           

The servants of the Likt’na’e were nowhere to be found. There was the sound of weapons clattering to the ground as Spike, Buffy, and Emmie made their way to the same spot. Angel’s ashes were obvious enough; he had been a master vampire after all. Ty’s throat was dry. He couldn’t bear to look, and he couldn’t bear to look away. He saw his father look up at him, asking silently if he was alright. Ty could only nod, and then Spike went to stand behind Emmie, who knelt on the ground, crying over the vampire’s ashes.

           

“You have done well.”

           

The voice came from behind him, and Ty spun around, half-expecting to see another enemy. But the being standing there was nothing like the Likt’na’e. He was nothing like a man, as he was glowing with an inner light. Ty vaguely remembered his mother describing what angels looked like, seeing them depicted in the stained glass windows of the church when he’d gone to Mass with her so very long ago. He thought perhaps this being was what an angel might look like.

           

Ty’s fear melted away, and a sense of peace filled him. “Who are you?”

           

“I am one who has watched you for a long time. I was there before your birth. I will be there at your end.” There was joy in his face and voice, the kind of joy that creates solemnity rather than hilarity. “You have fulfilled all our hopes, Chosen.”

           

The boy tore his eyes away from the being and looked over his shoulder at the knot of people. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he protested, grief suddenly making its presence known. “Uncle Angel wasn’t supposed to die.”

           

“It was necessary.” The voice was gentle. “It was his choice.”

           

“No!” Ty cried, tears finding their way to his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. “That’s not the way it’s supposed to work. There was a prophecy. A-about a souled vampire. He was supposed to save the world a-and Shanshu. It’s not fair.”

           

The being was hardly offended. “Life is not fair. You know this.”

           

“It’s not right then,” Ty said angrily. “He tried so hard. He fought for you.”

           

The being shook his head. “He fought for _you_ , Chosen. As was his right.”

           

           

Spike looked up, seeing that Ty was talking to—well, he was talking to something. There was nothing evil or malicious about whatever it was; he could tell that from where he stood. Ty was in one piece, untouched as far as he could tell. And for the moment, he had nothing to give his son. All his energy was taken up by grief. He and Angel had not always gotten along, but the prophecy had been correct. They _had_ been brothers; they had understood one another better than anyone ever could. There were experiences they had shared between them that no one else would ever know.

           

Buffy stood behind him, one hand on his arm. He could hear her crying. Emmie knelt next to the pile of ashes that had been Angel, sobbing quietly. The vampire had been the first man she had loved. Spike understood the nature of this loss. For that matter, so did Buffy.

           

Connor stood across from him, tears running down his own cheeks, making white tracks through the dust and soot. He had lost his father for the third time.

           

Spike finally knelt beside Emmie, pulling her into his arms, letting his own tears flow freely. “Angel—” he whispered.

 

~~~~~ 

 

“Do you see them?” the being asked from behind Ty. “Angelus made no valuable contribution as a man. He hurt each of them as a vampire. At one time, your father and your Champion would have called themselves his enemies. The Slayer sent him to hell. And yet they weep.”

           

“They loved him,” Ty retorted. “I loved him.”

           

“William weeps.” The being came up behind him and laid one bright hand on his head. Ty felt a wave of peace wash over him, and his tears stopped. He was suddenly quite certain that everything would be fine. “Your father was the one to Shanshu. Tell me why Angel should as well.”

           

“Because there were two souled vampires. Because the prophecy can be fulfilled as many times as the conditions are met. Because we need him.”

           

Ty listed his reasons calmly, already knowing he had won the argument. The being nodded once. “Then tell me the properties of phoenix tears.”

           

Ty looked at the mourners, and began reciting his well-learned lesson. “The phoenix is a mythical creature, said to die by self-immolation, only to rise again from its ashes,” Ty whispered, remembering that his father was named the Phoenix. “The tears of the phoenix are said to have healing properties, even unto healing mortal wounds.”

           

“Even so. Do you see?” the bright one asked. “Had Angel not been worthy of love, he would not have been worthy of the Shanshu. Just as your father was worthy of love, and so worthy of Shanshu. When Angel died, he died for love of you, and no other reason. And the Phoenix will bring him to life.”

           

Before all their astonished eyes, Angel’s ashes began glowing, a great wind swirling them into a vortex of glowing embers. The embers reformed, taking the shape of a body. Silence reigned as Angel reappeared, reformed from the dust and ashes.

           

And then he took a deep breath.

           

Ty watched as Emmie threw herself on his chest, and grinned broadly. He turned to look for the being, but he was gone, with no sign remaining that he had ever been there.

           

“Ty!” Spike called to him, his eyes glowing with joy and surprise. Ty sped across the expanse, flinging himself into his father’s arms, suddenly a happy child again.

           

Spike flung his arms around his son, looking on as Emmie helped Angel to stand. They were still in awe of what seemed a miracle. Connor took a few shaky steps towards his father, and then they embraced, Angel’s now-beating heart thumping in steady rhythm.

           

After that, there was nothing more to do except activate the portal home. Buffy pricked her finger on Emmie’s boot-knife and smeared the blood on the stone. Five minutes later, the portal opened and they walked through, Angel still being supported between Emmie and his son. Apparently, dusting and then becoming human again after two centuries was a little disorienting.

           

On the other side, there were the usual exclamations, the evidences of a happy homecoming where no one had died and they had won. For a few moments, they could forget what was lost and simply be happy at what had been gained. Grief would come later.

 

~~~~~ 

 

Spike stood at the window looking out at the green expanse of lawn, thinking about the changes the last months had brought. With the end of the Senior Partners, the L.A. branch had been theirs again. Angel had insisted on going back to work as soon as possible, despite his new human status and slight disorientation. The newest ex-vampire still paused to look in every mirror and reflective surface, still got a look of awe on his face every time he walked outside on a sunny day. Spike had a feeling Angel wouldn’t be taking his heartbeat for granted any time soon.

           

Their victory had also initiated a massive power struggle in most of the other branches of Wolfram & Hart, and not just in their dimension. Angel had sent Wesley and Connor to the New York and London branches immediately, hoping to tilt the hostile takeovers in their favor. While they had managed to tentatively secure those two locations, the others were now being run by people very much like Lilah Morgan and Lindsey McDonald. The new Watcher’s Council would ensure their hold on the London office, but the New York office was still being purged and turned around. Weeding out the evil influences and making attempts to stall the other branches was going to be the work of a lifetime. It was actually rather exciting.

           

Spike and Buffy decided to get married in a small, private ceremony. When he’d asked her if she didn’t want something more elaborate, Buffy had just laughed and said she’d seen plenty of that with Anya and Xander’s disastrous wedding. The only thing she’d wanted was to find the perfect dress. After that, it was only a matter of finding a minister and a reception hall. Two months after they’d gotten engaged, Spike stood at the front of a reception hall, with Ty, Angel, and Wesley at his side, watching as first Emmie, then Dawn and Willow came to stand across from him. And finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, Buffy had come to meet him on Giles’s arm. It was a perfect moment, one that could not have been improved with months more of planning.

           

And now—now they were playing the waiting game again. Spike hated waiting. With a sigh, he turned away from the window to find Buffy standing just behind him, an amused look on her face. “Why so nervous?” she teased. “You’d almost think it was your kid.”

           

Spike shook his head. “I was perfectly calm with Ty,” he replied. “I was the one doin’ the drivin’ and the coachin’.”

           

His wife smiled. “Well, that’s good to know.”

           

He blinked as he recognized that particular smile, the smile that said she knew something he didn’t. “Are you―?”

           

“I am,” Buffy said, her eyes dancing. “I wanted to wait to say anything until after, you know, but I figure we can go public in a couple days.”

           

Spike leaned down to give her a thorough kiss. “I love you.”

           

“I love you too.” Buffy let him hold her. She could hardly believe, after everything they’d gone through, how well it had all turned out. Gunn would be sorely missed, but she couldn’t help but be grateful that she still had Spike and Ty and Dawn. Her family was intact.

           

“You think there’s somethin’ in the water?” Spike asked quietly, with some amusement, thinking of Fred and Wesley’s soon-to-be-born little one, not to mention the two new engagement rings that had sprouted on certain fingers. And the way Dawn and Connor had been looking at one another, Spike wouldn’t be too surprised if the future brought a third.

           

“You mean with the weddings and babies?” Buffy asked. “I don’t know. I think you just ended up giving the other guys ideas.”

           

Spike nodded, looking over the waiting room. Dawn and Connor were sitting in intense conversation, with Ty seated next to them, quietly reading a book. He and Angel’s son had been really close since the battle, and Spike was grateful that there was yet another person who was looking out for his son’s welfare. Angel and Emmie were sitting close by, not talking, but simply enjoying the other’s presence. Angel’s near-miss had solidified their commitment to one another, plainly represented by the ring on Emmie’s left hand. They were just waiting on Fred and Wesley at this point.

           

Wesley came through the doors just then, and Spike easily recognized the look on his face. He was certain he had worn the same expression when Ty was born. The normally reticent man was nearly bouncing, the only thing preventing him from doing so was the deep-set exhaustion brought on by more than 12 hours of labor.

           

“It’s a girl,” he announced, his face breaking out into a proud smile. “You can see them if you like.”

           

With a sense of joyful expectancy, they all followed Wesley back to the private room. Fred lay propped up in the bed, her face tired but happy, holding a small infant wrapped in a pink blanket. Spike stood, his arm around Buffy, remembering the past and anticipating a time in the future when it would be Buffy and their child he was looking at.

           

“What did you name her?” Angel asked, the look on his face telling Spike that their thoughts were running parallel.

           

Fred and Wesley exchanged a loving look, and then Fred nodded. Wesley looked down at his daughter in pride. “We named her Charlotte Hope,” he said softly. “After Charles.”

           

It seemed right, to all of them. A good name, a good reminder. A fallen friend who would not be forgotten. Ty pushed his way past the adults and made his way to the bedside next to Wesley. “Can I touch her?” he asked timidly.

           

“Of course, Ty,” Fred said softly.

           

The boy reached out, and gently stroked the infant’s cheek with one finger. And then he smiled. “Hello, cousin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Gunn is killed during an apocalypse, just FYI.


End file.
